


Evolution Of Friends

by JessicaX



Category: X-Men Evolution
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: femmeslash, Emo, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Friendship, Gen, Goths, High School, Lesbian Character, Marijuana, Mutant Hate, Mutant Politics, Mutant Powers, Mutants, Mutation, Not Really Character Death, POV Alternating, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Multiple, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Tension, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-13 08:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 96,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1220269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaX/pseuds/JessicaX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'd been in contact with Jean's hand much less time than with Risty's neck, yet my powers had worked. There had to be something about Risty..." Alternate Universe in which Risty Wilde isn't just a figment of Mystique's imagination and, in fact, becomes so much more to her "best mate" than either of them could predict. Told from Rogue's POV, occasionally from Risty's and other perspectives. F/.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> X-Men are a registered trademark of Marvel. The X-Men: Evolution characters are property of Marvel, too. In fact, there aren't even any fan characters in this, so all of everything is copyrighted to Marvel. Well, except one mutant codename, but the character it belongs to is Marvel's. So there. All hail Marvel. This story ©2005-2011 myself.
> 
> [AO3 NOTE: This story was begun in 2005, put on the shelf for SIX YEARS, then dusted off and finished. All in all, turned out rather well, considering! Also, I'll warn you that roughly 4-5 of the 30 main chapters are mostly transcripts of episodes with a few changes here and there. I WAS TRYING TO STICK TO CANON! -Jessex]

**EvF:START**

•••••••••INITIATE PROLOGUE

Reminiscing.

"I'm open, Risty!"

Maybe it  _is_  kinda weird, but I catch myself doing it all the time. I always wonder how things would've turned out if I'd hesitated, or just plain didn't feel like playing that day. Y'know... if I'd kept my mouth shut.

"It's comin' t' you, luv!"

I mean, maybe it woulda happened later anyway, a different way and a different time. Maybe the fact that it happened  _that_  day at  _that_  time wasn't important. But what if...

"Damn, my shoelace..."

Even after so long, I try and reflect on those days in great detail every so often; to think about exactly how it happened. How lucky I am. How if it had never happened at all, my life would be so different... and how much I would hate that. How if I could go back and do it all over again...

"Rogue, look sharp!  _ROGUE-!"_

...I probably would've hollered just as loud.

•••••••••

**•Chapter One•**

"Oh my God, Rogue!" Risty Wilde cried, sprinting over the gymnasium floor faster than I'd ever seen her move, violet tresses fluttering to the right of her head. "Blimey, are you alright?"

I finally lifted a gloved hand from my face. Sure enough, blood was running down it, staining the sleeve of my gray sweatshirt.

"Dear God..." Her face went slightly pale.

"Relax," I said - my voice sounded a little funny. "Hurts like hellfire, but I think that's the gist of the damage." A tear still decided to roll down my cheek.

"Oh, good," she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. A moment later, she slapped me upside the head. "What the hell were you daydreamin' about, ya bloody git?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Ya got the 'bloody' part right..."

She shook her head and chuckled. "Only you could take a basketball in the conk and still manage a smile. C'mon, let's get you to the locker room."

She pulled me to my feet and held me steady as we made our way to the showers, Risty shouting  _"ONE SIDE!"_  to my concerned classmates. "Here," she soothed, handing me a few cold, wet paper towels. A crowd of onlookers was forming at the doorway. "We're not selling tickets!" she shouted.

"It's okay, Risty," I said, dabbing at my throbbing nose. "It's just a nosebleed."

"Sorry, luv." She gently rubbed my shoulder. "You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, but I'll look like a train wreck for a while."

"Oh, come off it, can't be that bad... lemme see." She reached for my face.

Suddenly my eyes flew open.  _"RISTY-"_

Her hand jerked back.  _"What, what?"_ I sat there blinking at her for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds. "What is it, Rogue?"

"N-nothing." I touched a hand to my cheek. "It's nothing, sorry."

Her features relaxed as her panic subsided. "Oh, I guess you didn't want me to bump your nose." She laughed nervously. "Sorry 'bout that."

I nodded dumbly.

"Everything alright in here?"

"Fine, Coach Lazenby," Risty called brightly. "Maybe she should see the nurse, though."

"Go ahead, grab a pass." Having settled that matter, Coach ducked her head back out.

"Feel better, okay, girl?" She gave me a quick hug, then ran back into the gym, pausing at the door to glance back at me again.

I stumbled toward the coach's office in a daze. Was my mind playing tricks on me?

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Hey, Kitty! Here's your math book. Thanks again, by the way."

Kitty Pryde looked up from her reading and beamed at the tall boy in red sunglasses holding it out to her. "Sure, no problem," she said, taking it.

"Oh, Rogue," Scott Summers continued, leaning against our bedroom's door jamb. "Mr. Ryan asked me to pass along your homework assignment."

I sat up, drawing my knees under my chin. I really just wanted to be alone to think. "K."

"It's... chapter 7. Answer questions 1-4."

"K."

I could see them exchange a glance out of the corner of my eye. Kitty set the math book on the desk.

"You okay?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, fine."

"Well, other than the nose," Kitty put in.

I laughed halfheartedly. "Yeah, it doesn't really hurt anymore."

"Bet you wish you could just brush Logan real fast," she continued. "Heal it the easy way."

"Right." I was staring out the window, no longer paying much attention.

Scott's eyebrow raised above those shades of his. "Alright, Rogue," he said, folding his arms, "we'll bite. What's wrong?"

"I said nothing." I was getting irritated, even though I knew they were just trying to help.

"Don't make me go get Jean."

"Hey, you keep her outta this," I said, tapping my forehead. "That's all I need."

"C'mon, he was just kidding."

"Half-kidding." He put his hands in his pockets.

"Alright,  _God,"_  I sighed, turning to face them, hanging my legs off the edge of my bed. "If I tell you guys, will you keep Jean outta my head?"

"Duh!" Kitty spun her chair around, eager for the gossip.

" _And_  the Professor?"

"We promise," Scott said, holding up his hands.

_"SPILL!"_

I hesitated, took a deep breath, then plunged forward. "Today, in gym class... somebody... touched me."

"Omigosh, are they okay?" Kitty asked, leaning in.

"Yeah, fine. That's just it: nothing happened."

They both blinked. "So," Scott said slowly, "no... power-sucking?"

"Not even a tingle." I scratched my head. "I don't get it, what's up with me?"

Kitty hesitantly reached toward me and placed her finger on my chin. Immediately, I felt the all-too-familiar surge of energy course through my veins. She jerked her hand back, and we were both breathing pretty hard.

"Rogue," Scott said with a slight tinge of amusement, "your butt's halfway through the bed."

He was right; I'd grifted just enough of Kitty's "ghosting" power to manage to lose my backside. "Guess that means I still got it."

"Uh, yeah," Kitty panted.

"Then what happened?" I asked, trying to extract my rear end from the mattress. "Did my powers just... wink out for a minute or somethin'?"

"Maybe it had something to do with the bloody nose," Kitty suggested. "Like, maybe pain cancels out your powers?"

"Or it could've been who touched you." Scott sat down on the other end of the bed, one hand on his chin thoughtfully. And yeah, even though I shoulda been focused on breaking free of my own boxsprings, I couldn't suppress the tiny flutter in my heart. Scott Summers was sitting on my bed! How amazing was this? But I couldn't let him know how much that affected me. "Was it another mutant?"

"N-no." Here's where I finally succeeded in pulling my ass back into solid space with the wispy residuals of Kitty's power. "It was just Risty."

"Maybe we should go back on our promise and call the Prof in," Scott said, pushing his shades up. "This is serious."

"But-"

"Rogue, what if your powers start going ballistic?" Kitty interrupted. "Like, you start absorbing people you're not even touching!"

I frowned, suddenly annoyed that she was there. Why couldn't Scott and I have a minute alone? "Very funny, Shadowcat."

"I'm serious!" she pouted. "Remember when Jean-"

"All right," Scott cut in, standing. "We'll keep a lid on it... for now. Maybe it was a one-time fluke and it's nothing to worry about. Sunspots, or something like that." He looked right at me, and I'm sure if I could've seen through those ruby-quartz lenses, his gaze would've been just as piercing as his optic blasts. "If anything like this happens again, let us know, okay?"

I rolled my eyes. Scott Summers was a pretty cool guy – and between you and me,  _blazin' hot_  - but sometimes he could be a little too... intense. "I'll keep you in the loop."

Scott waved and headed out the door.

"So, um, when did Risty touch you?"

I smiled. "Right after she nailed me in the schnozz."

"I  _knew_  it, it  _was_  the pain!" Kitty shouted triumphantly. "So she was helping you and stuff?"

"Yeah. She touched my face in the locker room to get a better look at her handiwork." I scratched my arm absentmindedly. "It felt funny..."

She knitted her eyebrows. It's strange, but she really does look like a kitten when she does that. "Like how?"

"Well, it's been a long time since somebody touched me without the 'zap'. Since I got my powers."

"Since they awakened, you mean."

I flopped back on my bed. "To- _may_ -to, to- _mah_ -to."

Kitty went back to her homework, and I went back to wondering. Why didn't Risty get a jolt when she touched me? Why wasn't I still swimming in her memories - why didn't I get them at  _all?_  It didn't add up. She didn't have any special powers or anything to counteract my absorption; she was just British. Maybe there's something in the Manchester water...

Now I was being silly. I needed a soda.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

I got all bloodied up on a Friday, and by the following Monday I'd forgotten all about Risty touching me. That is, until I saw her, anyway. She was digging in her locker for something, oblivious to the world.

Okay, it probably wasn't very nice of me, but I suddenly decided to test my theory that Risty was immune to my deadly touch. I nonchalantly removed my leather gloves and tucked them in my back pocket. Then, slowly, quietly, I walked up behind her, reaching for her neck with my fingers...

Contact. Nothing.

Well, not exactly nothing; I mean, Risty jumped out of her skin, her cranium making a very audible  _BANG_  on the ceiling of her locker.

"What th'- Dammit, Rogue, you scared the bloody  _hell_  outta me!" She punched me in the arm, hard enough to let me know she wasn't that pissed.

"Sorry," I laughed, trying not to let on how mystified I was. "What ya huntin' for?"

"My geometry book," she said distractedly, turning her attention back to the locker. "I need it for next period."

"You mean this one?" I said, pointing to one of the books in her arm. When she finally realized what I was trying to point out, she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Christ, I'm a scatterbrain." She slammed the door, laughing. "I...  _really_  can't believe I did that."

"Don't sweat it, we all have off-days."

"Speaking of 'off', I'd better be!" she said, pelting down the hall. "Chat later, luv!"

"Later!" Lost in thought, I wandered in the general direction of health class.

"Hey, Rogue!"

I looked up to see Jean Grey waving at me. I was instantly on edge. Me and the future Phoenix never were very close; I guess we just got off on the wrong foot. That, and we both started liking Scott around the same time, which took us beyond passive dislike to budding rivals. I resented her for having a better shot at him than me, what with being able to touch him and all.

I suddenly had a deliciously evil idea. Why not test my powers on her?

I waved as I said "What's up?", then left my hand there, trying for a high-five. Sure enough, she held out her hand on instinct - I mean, most people would, right? I slapped it, and got a minuscule trickle of Jean's thoughts and energy.

 _"Ouch!"_  She yanked her hand back. "Rogue, what... why did you trick me like that?"

I smiled innocently. "Sorry, forgot my gloves weren't on. See ya later!"

She just looked at me funny for a moment. "Uh, yeah." I knew she was thinking  _'What's up with HER today?'_ , due to my tiny nip of her own telepathic powers.

Any other day, playing a cruel-but-harmless prank like that on Jean would've had me rolling - I'm kind of ashamed of that now, but it's the truth. Not today, though... I was too preoccupied with the results. I'd been in contact with Jean's hand much less time than with Risty's neck, yet my powers had worked. There had to be something about Risty.

I ducked into the girls' room. The thoughts of the kids in the hallway were bouncing around in my head, and I needed some isolation until the mind-reading power faded.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Over the next few days, I tried draining my best friend's life force at least a dozen times. I even tried concentrating, thinking she might just have thicker skin or something; didn't make a bit of difference. I hate to say it like that - it makes it sound like I wanted to knock her flat on her ass - but I was just trying to figure it out, I  _had_  to know! I mentioned none of this to the others, but I was about ready to tell Kitty, at least. I mean, maybe Risty  _was_  a mutant and she just didn't know... or didn't want anyone  _else_  to.

It was another Friday. We were in the food court at the mall, splitting an order of cheese fries. I'd pretty much given up on my powers working on her; she was obviously immune to my poison touch, and I was starting to get used to it. I was still gonna talk to Scott or Kitty, but it didn't bother me anymore - it was actually kinda nice. Risty, for her part, seemed to think I was just getting less withdrawn.

"I said, do you want anything?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

Risty cocked her head to the side, her purple hair falling in her eyes. "Rogue, you're acting a bit off. You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry... my mind just wandered off without me for a sec. What were you saying?"

"I was saying I'm gonna replenish my Coke. Do you want anything?"

"Yeah, get me one, too," I said, handing over my cup. "Mountain Dew."

"Dew, gotcha." She trotted off toward Dairy Queen.

I was twirling a cheddar-coated fry, staring at it as if it held all the answers, when Kitty strolled over, complete with an over-abundance of bags from at least a half-dozen stores.

"Hey, Rogue! What's new?"

"Well-"

"Ooh, hang on, let me get a smoothie, k?" And off she bounced. Two seconds later, Risty was back with the drinks.

"Here you are, luv. So, what'd I miss?"

I laughed. "Me pondering the awesome might of the cheese fry. Oh, and Kitty said 'hi'."

"Mint," she said drily, playing with her straw. A few quiet moments passed like that before she looked up at me, a funny look on her face. "Rogue..."

"Yeah?"

"Ever had... a secret, that you wanted to tell someone, but... but you didn't know if it was the best idea?"

I dropped my fry, complete with cheddar, narrowly missing my new shirt. Was this it? Was she about to tell me she was another mutant, or whatever? But I didn't know that for sure, so I had to play the guessing game coyly.

"You mean, like... a crush?"

She hesitated a moment. "Something like that..."

 _"Oooooh,_  does Risty  _like_  somebody?"

I glanced over my shoulder. "God, Kitty, you're so nosy."

"What?" She frowned, taking a sip of her reddish frozen treat. "I'm just asking..."

"You know what they say about curiosity and kitties..."

"Oops!" Risty said, looking up from her watch. "Where has the time gone? I've got scads of homework..." She stood, grabbing her drink. "You can polish off the chips if you like."

"Thanks. Hey, talk later, right?"

"Groovy. Tee-tee-eff-enn, mate!" She kinda hesitated, half-nervous and half-frantic, then gave a little wave before running off at full tilt.

"Good job, Kitty."

"Whaaat? What'd I do?"

"I think she was gonna tell me..."

"Yeah, I heard the beginnings of something juicy, there." Oh,  _something_  had to be done to wipe that stupid, excited smirk off her face... permanently, if possible.

"No, Kitty..." I gave her a meaningful stare - over-exaggerated specifically for Kitty's airy head. Thank God she got it, and her eyes widened.

"You mean about her anti-Rogue power thingy?" She frowned, plopping down in the now-empty seat. "I'm sorry, really, I didn't-"

"Oh, I know." I picked up one of the "chips," then put it back. "It's just so frustrating; I keep trying to use my power on her, over and over... and nothing. It doesn't make any sense." I lowered my voice. "I think she  _is_  one of us."

"For sure... I mean, how else could she trump you like that?"

"I'm gonna go back to the mansion. See ya..." Before she could stop me, I was up and moving fast. I wasn't sure if I was chasing after Risty in vain, or if I wanted to be alone. It was just time to go.

"Hey, wait!" she shouted after me. "What about your fries?"

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CAUTIONS: I realise most of you won't need to be told this, but there are those select few who can't seem to grasp such things, so I'm going to spell it out for them: This is an AU fic. There will be things you know and remember happening in the series, and things you'll see and cry out "BUT WHAT ABOUT THE SUCHANDSUCH YOU HARLOT!1" This is your warning: IT'S AN AU FIC. THINGS WILL NOT BE THE SAME. I HAVE CHANGED THINGS BECAUSE I WANTED TO. Don't flame, or you'll just burn yourself.
> 
> I'm sorry if I come off as a bit tweaky, but I've been up far too long, and... yes, I've been drinking tea, again. No, it's not the herbal... IT'S CHAI, OKAY? There, you've gone and twisted my arm and forced me to admit my addiction. I am chai's bitch.
> 
> All that taken care of, I hope you enjoy my foray into the X-Men fandom! Technically, rather than an AU fic, it's more of a "What if?" scenario I had a bit too much fun with. I also realize it's been done before by other authors after a fashion, but then... well, everything under the sun's been done one way or the other, so all that's left is doing the old things in new ways, eh? You'll probably see what I mean soon enough. But I do go on so...


	2. Chapter 2

"EE- _YAH!"_

The bag swung back down at me; I spun and kicked it again, sending it flying back up.

"Rogue?"

I caught the bag to stop its advance. I didn't really need to see who it was, but I turned around as I replied, anyway. "Hey, Scott," I said, wiping my forehead.

"Kitty told me you'd been... 'testing' Risty a lot, lately." He followed me over to the bench. "She said you're pretty convinced she's a mutant now, and that she almost told you?"

"It's the only explanation." I plunked down and took a swig of Gatorade before continuing. "Seriously, I arm wrestled her  _barehanded_... not even a spark. Either she's one of us, or I'm havin' some pretty damn convenient power outages." A sigh escaped my lips. "How do you ask somebody that kinda thing?  _Can_  you ask that kinda thing? I'm stumped."

"Is that why you're wearing yourself out in here? Kurt says you missed lunch." He sat next to me, making me a little nervous. Our arms were only an inch or two apart... and I knew if they touched it wouldn't result in the type of "sparks" I wanted, but since when did my heart listen to my head? "It's not really healthy to skip meals."

I gave him a mock-salute. "Yes,  _sir!"_

I could tell he was rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. "Cut it out."

_'Rogue.'_

There he was, intruding on my thoughts again. "What is it, Professor?"

_'You have a visitor.'_

"Risty?"

_'Yes, as a matter of fact. She's approaching the gate now.'_

"Thanks... I'll meet her at the door."

Scott stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. "She's here?"

"Yep."

"I'll let you hit the showers, then."

"Heh, no time for that, now, I guess; some spray-on deodorant oughtta hold out for an hour or so." The instant I realized I'd actually said that to Scott, I turned brick-red and bolted for the safety of the locker room. Great; now he'd think of me as "that smelly girl I can't touch anyway". Like I wanted him to have  _more_  reasons to steer clear.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Risty smiled when she spotted me coming down the steps, back in my normal gothwear. "Hey, girlfriend!"

"'Sup, Risty?" I brushed a stray white forelock out of my eyes.

"Just wanted to ask if you were up for a film. 'Mexican Cyborg 2' has just arrived, and he's ready to terrorize Guadalajara!" She idly pretended to fire off several devastating blasts of energy.

I couldn't help but laugh - especially because there were several non-cyborgs in the mansion at that very moment that could do much worse. Speaking of worse, I wasn't sure my deodorant would last through an entire movie. "Sure, just let me run upstairs and change."

The world's quickest shower and twenty minutes later found us barreling down the road in Risty's '89 Escort. It was missing the right wing mirror and the color was something you'd find in an airsick bag, but it got us from A to B, which is what counts.

As the speedometer hit fifty, "Great Big White World" was blaring over the radio (it's really too bad Risty didn't have much of a system in that car, yet - I mean, Manson with no bass?), and I was singing along contentedly before Risty turned it down.

"Hey, I like that one!"

"Rogue... we need to discuss some shit."

I looked at her nervously, trying not to let on that I'd been waiting for the bomb. "Is this serious shit, or the garden-variety fertilizer?"

"Definitely not garden-variety," she said with a slight laugh. "As you could probably tell, I was gonna tell you yesterday, but... I guess the food court isn't a proper confessional."

"If you're talking about Kitty, I'm sorry, she shouldn't have-"

"No, no, not just her... it simply wasn't private enough."

I was fussing with my fishnets absentmindedly. "Well, go on."

She took a deep breath. Reasonable explanation, here we come. I could tell this was hard for her, and I made a mental note not to freak out, even if she told me she was Juggernaut himself. Funny how you can be so close to the mark, and yet so far... "Rogue, do you recall those two instances when I sort've... disappeared for a bit?"

"Yeah, of course. When you went back to England."

A pained look crept onto her face as she glanced at me. She didn't want to do this, but felt like she...  _owed_  it to me? Was that right? "I was in a very peculiar accident. This was back when I had the Dynasty. Remember my Dynasty?"

"Boy, do I." I couldn't help grinning at a memory of us sleeping in that car before getting in line for A Perfect Circle tickets - it wasn't very long after we first met. "What ever happened to it?"

She took in another breath. "I was driving toward the Institute; y'know, to see you. It seems like I was returning something of yours... I can't even remember what it was, now. Anyway, this old man was lying on the side of the road. I stopped to look the beggar over, just to see if he was okay, but before I can even step out of the car, he lunges at me. I fell back into the passenger's seat, and the sod jumps in and starts driving my damn car! I tried to shove him out and take control, but he was a stubborn old codger. Then, he... well..."

"What,  _what?"_  I said - probably too urgently.

"He turned into a woman... a lanky tart with blue skin."

My eyes flew open. _"Mystique."_

"Yeah..." She looked over at me; her expression was impossible to read. "She sure has been a right bother to everyone, hasn't she?" Seeing I was too stunned to answer, she continued. "I couldn't get rid of her or take control of the car, but I succeeded in being enough of a nuisance that we went straight off a cliff. Pretty bleedin' sharp of me, eh?"

"So... how did you survive?"

"Technically, I didn't. However, I was lucky enough that we landed in a ravine that some conglomerate or other used to dump their more, er, iridescent wastes. I'm still not sure how it happened, and I may never know, but... Mystique  _absorbed_  me."

I could feel my eyebrows shooting up a few more centimeters. What the heck was Risty telling me? That she was Mystique? That I was sitting in the Escort with both of them right there, occupying the same driver's seat? You call  _that_  a reasonable explanation? It's  _cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs_  is what it is! But I had promised myself I wouldn't panic or overreact. Clearing my throat, I somehow got out the words, "Come again?"

"We were the same person... but I was just a spectator. I guess her being a mutant meant she got 'dibs' on pushing all the buttons of our collective body."

Before either of us said anything more, Risty swerved off the road. Just for a second, I thought we were going off a cliff (which would be the second time for her, I guess), but then I realized she was parking in an abandoned gas station.

"Wh-what are you d-"

"I promised myself I wouldn't blubber like a child." Tears were rolling down her cheeks unbidden. I'd never seen her like that, and I didn't really know what to make of it. "I was gonna be a tough little bird, I- I wasn't going to-"

"Hey, it's okay, Risty..." I put my hand on her shoulder - almost a reflex action. "I'd say you've earned a good cry, right?"

Then her arms were around me and she was sobbing into my shoulder. It almost seemed like that was the first and only time she'd ever allowed herself to feel the pain; to come to grips with what happened back then, suffer through the bitter memories. I rubbed her back gently, "Shh" the only thing I could think of to say, until the bleak, racking sobs gave way to quiet sniffling. It'd been an outlet she'd desperately needed, and she'd probably needed it for a long, long time.

"So," she said brightly while wiping her eyes. "Betcha wanna know how I came to be everyone's favourite ray of sunshine again, right?"

"Oh, do tell!" I replied with equal false bravado.

After a deep, shaky breath, she continued. "I'm not sure what exactly gave, but one day, I just realized that the control wasn't entirely out of reach anymore. Maybe her half of the brain was especially tired that day - who knows? But for that instant, she actually had to put some effort into suppressing my will, and for her, that was consternating. Of course, she immediately had the Mighty Mystique Power Rangers over to thwart me or whatever."

I was a little frightened, even though she obviously got through it okay. "Go on, go on."

"Well, first they tried purging my soul in all sorts of interesting, arcane ways, but the day Risty Wilde goes willingly into that black night is the day John Lennon returns on a white stallion. Finally, her cronies cooked up a fiendish plan to split us into two people again. Something to do with experimental mass rubbish... and a man named Igor. Anyway, I guess you can see their shining success!" She swept her arms wide in a  _"ta-daah!"_  fashion.

I wanted that to be the end of the story. It all made sense, Risty had come out of it more or less unscathed, and everything was hunky-dory. Still, there was a question that just wouldn't leave me alone, and I had a hunch that if I just flung it aside for now, I'd probably never find out why Risty was so upset about events that had an apparently-happy ending.

"Risty... how'd you get away? I would've figured they'd kill you on the spot - you know, to keep you from revealing Brotherhood secrets and plans and stuff."

"Well, they would have, I'm sure... but I daresay there wasn't any need."

I blinked. "Huh?"

"Put your ear to my chest."

That wasn't exactly a normal request, but I could tell she wasn't joking around about this. Hesitantly, I lowered the side of my head to her bosom and waited for something to happen.

And it was taking too long. Way,  _way_  too long.

"Risty..." I pulled back and gaped at her. "There's no heartbeat..."

She smiled, but it was the most hollow smile I've ever seen. "Kooky, huh?"

Okay, so now I wasn't making so good on my promise not to freak out. Even though she was my best friend, there was nothing I could do to stave off the cold sweat that broke out all over me. "But... but what-?"

"Keep your ear there."

I obeyed, too confused and terrified to think of a course of action independently. For five seconds, there was complete, ghastly silence. Then, without any sort of warning, I heard the rhythmic beating of a pulse, steady and loud as it should be. I was so startled I almost whacked my head on her chin as I flung myself away from her.

"I can do that now: stop my heart at will. It was stopped when the split was completed, so Mystique And Co. just threw me out... like chucking mouldy cheese in a dustbin." She folded her knees under her chin. "Eventually, I woke up, lying in a ditch in the middle of no place in particular. I wouldn't even recognise it if I saw it again, I'm sure. I wandered back to civilization, found my exchange guardians... they'd been frantic when I'd gone missing for a few days, especially when the bobbies couldn't find me. I was a right state for at least a week, I'm sure. But I got over it, readjusted... reintegrated back into my life, or whatever you'd call it, now."

"So you can... kill yourself and come back. Interesting, I guess."

At that, her eyebrows knitted. "Y'know, I'm really not sure if I could actually commit suicide and come out of it. I'm not terribly inclined to try, either - I just got my life back!"

"So Mystique probably still thinks you're dead."

"I  _am_  dead, remember?" she said with a wink.

"Don't  _say that!"_  I didn't realize I'd shouted until I saw Risty flinch. "Please," I said, quieter. "It's... it's too creepy."

"Rogue, I- I'm sorry. I should've told you before, ages ago, but... how do you go about that sort of thing? 'Oi, fetch me a cola, mate! By the way, I'm a bleedin' zombie, so while you're up, grab me some monkey brains to feast on, too, willya? There's a lass!'"

I laughed halfheartedly. "Good point... but, well, I'm kinda scared, now. What if you do that sometime, and you can't start it back up? What if I lose my best friend?"

Risty's mouth opened, and though her tone was confident, I could tell she was fighting back another sobbing fit. "I've been turning it off and on for a bit, now, and it's only been getting easier. I've been testing, just like you have. I promise I'll be dandy, luv."

I nodded. Then her words hit home, and that cold sweat began creeping over me again. "Uh, w-what do you mean?"

She smiled. "Come off it, girl, there's nothing for it. Whether I liked it or not, I  _was_  part of Mystique, sharing all her intel." She leaned closer to me. "I imagine it's fun being part of a superhero gang."

And I knew. I knew she knew, and  _she knew_  I knew she knew. You know? Nobody'd ever suddenly unearthed my secret, so I had no idea how to deal with this. "I- I-"

"It took me a bit to suss out why you gasped in the locker room. I'd forgotten about your powers of energy osmosis."

"But- but you just said you knew what Mystique knew."

"Bits 'n' pieces, comes 'n' goes. This whole mess has left me with gaps in my own memories, which is a bit unsettling, let me tell you..."

"So... my powers don't work on you anymore... 'cause you're the living dead?"

She shrugged. "Search me, luv."

In addition to feeling uneasy and frightened, relief and disappointment now reared their conflicting heads. I mean, if I'd up and lost my powers, I'd be a normal girl again. Whether or not that would've been a good thing, I couldn't decide.

"Look," she continued, interrupting my inner monologue, "I won't tell a soul. We're mates; peas in a pod." Her eyes shifted to mine. "I  _was_  Mystique for a long time, but... I swear, it's really me, now. Even then, I was still there for all those things you and Mystique-slash-Risty went through. And, for what it's worth... I'm utterly, bitterly sorry for deceiving you. I wanted to tell you so desperately, truly I did... oh, dash it all."

As she'd begun apologizing, her gaze and legs had dropped to the floorboard. Her resolve was wearing thin, and every moment I took to make sense of all this was chipping away at her remaining composure. I knew I had to say something, anything, no matter how I felt...

"Forget it."

Her eyes flicked toward me. "Really? You're not cross?"

"Oh, I'm  _cross,_ all right. What did I tell you about jumping into other people's bodies? I expected better from you."

She smiled warmly. "I don't deserve a gal pal like you, Rogue."

"I think we complement each other pretty well." I wiped away a tear that had escaped my own guard before we embraced again, crying unchecked. The very idea that I'd spent any time at all hanging out with Mystique still creeped me out, but what could I do? Kick my friend to the curb over something that's not her fault? No way in perdition. I was gonna have to deal with that internally on my own time. In the moment, it was a lot more important that I be there for her.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Maybe it was only minutes later - maybe hours, I'll never know - when we heard a car horn. Risty looked over and saw a truck with a bunch of guys in it. She rolled down the glass.

"You ladies need some assistance," a blonde jock asked, once he saw who was inside, "or are you just 'parked'?" His friends chuckled and whooped.

"What's the matter?" she shot back. "Never seen a couple a' puffs in all your travels?"

He scratched his head at that one. "You mean like... Powerpuffs or somethin'?"

_"SOD OFF!"_

The driver threw the truck into gear and they all laughed. "Must be 'rag season'," one of them said as they peeled back onto the road.

"Bloody  _wankers!_  Half-drunk and on the weed, I'll bet." I could tell those morons had ruffled her feathers a little. "Gits like that should be drawn and quartered, and the pieces used as chum."

Trying not to laugh, I had to ask her. "Risty, what the hell's a 'puff'? You know, in Brit."

She laughed. "Nevermind, I was only yanking their proverbial chain."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. It's the same thing as 'fag', ain't it?"

She gave me a queer look (no pun intended - on her part, at least). "Nobody was smoking."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH II


	3. Chapter 3

_"Ha!_  Got you cornered!"

I shot Kitty a scathing look. I'd just been getting up to run to the kitchen, too... "Not if I borrow your lifeforce! Try stopping me  _then!"_

"Fess up!" she continued, unfazed. "You found out about Risty, but you're keeping all the tantalizing details to yourself! How selfish!"

"You bull-headed, self-absorbed little busybody! I oughtta take those ears of yours and-"

"Ladies, ladies!" a deep, gravelly voice said. We both looked up to see Logan standing in our doorway, a mug of coffee in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. "Keep yer yappin' down to a dull roar, willya? What's eatin' ya, anyway?"

"Put that icky thing out," Kitty said, holding her nose. Privately, I agreed with her, but I was way too annoyed at her to admit it.

"Sure," he said, pinching the lit end with two fingers. This would've been mortifying if Logan weren't... well, Logan. "Now, out with it."

"Rogue thinks Risty's a mutant!"

"Oh, God,  _congratulations_ , Kitty! You just won the Worst Friend Of The Year award, you stupid-"

"See how mean she's being? I can't help it if-"

Logan sighed, pocketing the cigar. "Relax, Half-Pint. This doesn't sound like it's any of your business, for one thing."

"But-"

" _Shaddap,"_  he reiterated, staring her down (which is something Logan was very good at). When she looked at her shoes in defeat, his eyes moved to me. "Sounds to me like you need to have a chat with ol' Chuck."

"But I don't-"

"Hey," he said, just as stern. "I know you and that purple-headed English kid are 'pals' and all that, but if she  _is_  one of us, the head honcho needs to know."

I folded my arms and looked away. "Whatever."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Good afternoon, Rogue. Please, have a seat."

I had nothing to say to him. Not that I really had to - Professor Xavier had his ways of obtaining info. Really, he was a good man - wise, and kind to a fault... but I didn't appreciate being railroaded like this.

"Logan tells me you have some... suspicions about a fellow classmate." He leaned his elbows on his desk, hands folded under his chin. "Miss Wilde?"

"Why are you even bothering to ask?" I finally plopped down in the fine leather chair next to me, crossing my legs; my arms were already crossed. "Just yank it outta my head. Probably be faster."

He sighed, and I caught a look on his face - something between frustration and disappointment. "I'd rather not, and I'd hoped you'd know that by now. Incidentally, however, I don't have to exert my telepathy in the slightest to sense that you don't particularly want to be here."

"Got that right." I was too pissed to be civil.

"Rogue," he continued patiently, "if you really feel it best not to breathe a word of this to me, or anyone else, then I'll respect your decision. You should also know that I won't fight your battles for you, either; it seems at least one student has already caught wind of your suspicions, and doesn't appreciate being left in the dark."

My eyes opened a bit wider. "You-"

"Logan mentioned it," he said, holding up his hands. "You and Kitty were involved in an argument. From his synopsis of the encounter, several students in your hallway may also be aware of the situation by now."

"If only Kitty had a volume setting other than 'thundering'..."

Professor X allowed himself a slight smile. "Be that as it may, I believe it's safe to say the proverbial  _cat_  is halfway out of the bag. But you will have to decide for yourself whether or not keeping your secret will make things easier for Risty and yourself... or harder."

And just like that, Xavier made the three-pointer, and I knew he was right, as usual. No point in fooling myself any longer.

Several uncomfortable seconds went by before I could bring myself to speak at all. There was a silver lining, as dim as it was: It was bad enough blabbing all the things Risty had trusted me with last night, but if she had thought to actually swear me to secrecy, I think I would've had to commit hara-kiri. Once I finally pried my mouth open, I rushed through it so fast that only the Prof or Jean could've kept up.

About five minutes after I finished, when I was still in the process of biting my lip and staring off into space, thoroughly disgusted with myself, Professor Xavier finally spoke up.

"I must apologize, Rogue. I could tell that was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do, and I wish there was a way I could have made it easier for you. Still, I am glad you came forward, even if it wasn't completely willingly." When I nodded numbly, he continued. "I see no real immediate need to bring this to anyone's attention... still, if every word of her story is true, then..."

"Then... what?"

"Many people may be in danger; most prominently, Risty herself."

He gave me the few seconds I needed for the wheels to turn. "Mystique... the Brotherhood-!"

"You understand correctly. Mystique's memories hold a veritable treasure trove of information that could be detrimental or beneficial, depending on how you look at it. The X-Men could certainly use her knowledge of the Brotherhood's inner workings to our advantage. Unfortunately, other parties are decidedly less...  _diplomatic_  than we are."

"She knows things about us, too. How much, I'm not sure, but..."

"If she indeed knows everything Mystique knew at the time of their separation, she would be a valuable asset to any other militant groups of mutants - or mutant-haters."

"And... and if Mystique found out she's still alive and kicking, she'd-"

"Precisely."

I looked up, and was surprised to see a tiny fraction of my gripping fear reflected in the Professor's eyes.  _"No..."_

"I hope you'll not think me over-zealous if I recommend we devise some way of keeping a close eye on her at all times; perhaps an emergency communicator would be in order, as well. It may sound like I'm just an old worrywart, but-"

"No, no, I... it makes sense. But I think..." I was afraid of making any kind of suggestion. I mean, I was still a greenhorn in this outfit - what did I know?

"Go on. You must never be afraid to voice your ideas, child; after all, the worst that can happen is that they simply don't get used."

"Well... shouldn't we offer to... take her in? Wouldn't she be safer here than anywhere else?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "It is an option we will have to consider. I can't quite say yet if she is a mutant, as such... though considering her experiences, she does qualify as an 'honorary' X-Man, at the least. I am reluctant to hold a full-fledged briefing on the situation, but other opinions would be nice to hear. I don't want to sit on my hands, but I'm certainly not prepared to simply abduct a foreign exchange student and assimilate her, without warning, against her will." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment. "This is quite a conundrum, isn't it?"

"Maybe a meeting would be a good idea, I guess. And..."

His eyebrows raised slightly in expectation.

"...and I think Risty should be there."

Charles Xavier, as the resident logic-man and tactician, was known for speaking patiently and choosing his words wisely. Still, I'd never seen him hesitate before answering quite that long - not that I remember, anyway. "Perhaps you're right. After all, we're deciding her fate, and she already knows of the Institute's... er, alternate purpose, so there won't really be any breach of security. Perhaps you will be my page?"

"Your  _huh?"_

A kind of quirky half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Sorry; 'Page' as in 'messenger', rather than 'leaf of a book'. I'd like you to do a modicum of my dirty work." He glanced at the clock; it was about 1:00 P.M. "Let's hold this briefing at... oh, say five o'clock. I'll check with the others to make sure there's no major conflict. Once that's settled, I think it would be best if you called Miss Wilde and invited her to our 'think tank'."

It all felt so underhanded and sleazy, even though I knew we weren't really doing anything wrong and it was probably the best way to handle this. "Of- of course."

Another pensive nod. "Thank you for meeting with me, Rogue... and again, I apologize for forcing you to divulge something you were told in confidence."

I could tell, as preoccupied as he was, that he really meant it. That alone couldn't wash away my horrible feeling of betrayal, of course... I wasn't sure anything could.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

The sky was dark and overcast that afternoon. I was staring up at the foreboding clouds and feeling like a heel, leaning against the brick exterior of the Xavier Institute. A few of the newbies - students who had just arrived at the mansion, and hadn't even been tested or anything yet - were playing Frisbee off to my right, and it infuriated me. Didn't they know there were marked women out there, and best friends who felt like shit for selling them out?

Finally, I saw the front gates open, and that beat-up puke-green car drove up toward me and the front doors. It wasn't the colour of the car that was making my stomach quiver.

"Lovely afternoon, innit?" Risty called out sarcastically as she slammed her door. I didn't want to respond, just in case my response prompted her to tell me even more things she shouldn't trust me with. But it couldn't be helped, as the next thing out of her mouth was, "So, what's so beyond importance that it interrupted my winning streak at Tekken 5? I was beating the snot out of this cheeky git in front of all his mates, and he was just about to start crying like a-"

"Risty... I'm a horrible person."

I could feel her blinking - I didn't see it, as I couldn't look her in the eye just then. "Well... that would be significant news. Is there more to the story?"

"The Professor knows everything." So maybe I am a chicken, but I couldn't just tell her over the phone, okay? I expected her to shout at me, or kill me, or start crying, or maybe just get back in her car and drive out of my life forever. I didn't know what to do when she didn't react at all, so I kept going. "Some of the others are suspicious, too. They know something's up, but no details; Kitty, Scott and Logan think you might be a mutant or something. It's... I'm sorry, Risty."

Her voice was really shaky. "W-well, I guess it couldn't be helped. I mean, that Professor of yours-"

"No." It would've been so easy to let her think that, but if I started lying to her now... "He could have, sure, and I don't know whether or not he would have... but he gave me the chance to be straight with him, so... I did."

More silence.

"They're holding a meeting in an hour or so... about you. We think all the bad guys might come after you if they find out you're still alive, and that you remember... things." I hesitated, then pressed on in what I hoped was a more positive tone. "You're invited, of course! That's why I wanted you to get here so fast."

I felt like I would explode if she didn't react in some way. Impatiently, I glanced up at her for half a second, but she had turned away slightly - just enough so her long, violet bangs hid her hazel eyes from mine.

"Look, I know you probably don't want any part of this. If you leave now, maybe you could run away to someplace weird like... Utah, or somewhere they'd never think to look for you - the X-Men  _or_  the Brotherhood. I j-just felt like I should warn you, since it's my fault they know in the first place. You shouldn't have told me... I never realized how bad a friend I am."

The words were coming out all wrong, and I hoped she knew what I meant, anyway. Not that I expected to survive this encounter... or really thought I deserved to.

"Maybe," she finally said in a small voice. "But... I think I should see about that meeting first."

My head jerked up. "But-"

"Rogue." She turned to look at me, and I couldn't make heads or tails of her expression. "I just want to know why. Why did you expose me?"

Damn it, why did it always seem like I was fighting back tears those days? "I... I'm worried about you, and... I just don't want you to die for real, okay?"

"That's what I reckoned."

"Y-you did?"

She began to smile weakly. "I always knew somebody would puzzle it out eventually. Besides, I know you, and you wouldn't just blather my secrets because it made for good gossip."

"No, of course not!"

Risty sat down on a concrete step, her face in her hands. "I certainly don't have to look to you for someone to blame - not when Mystique's out there, ruining people's lives with wanton disregard. Of course, it's annoying that Professor Xavier suddenly knows, and it makes me a bit nervous... but maybe this is a good thing, eh?"

"The Prof's a smart guy," I said, sitting down and putting a hesitant hand on her back. "I'm sure he'll figure out what we should do."

"Who else is attending this coming-out party of mine?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Probably Logan and Mr. McCoy... maybe Scott and some of the other X-Men. The Prof said he wanted more ideas."

"I can imagine his opening speech now... 'Bother it all, this damned tart has stumbled upon everyone's dirty laundry! Should we snuff her straight away, or just shut her up in the sub-basement for the rest of her life?'"

"Risty-"

"Joking, joking," she laughed. "The truth is... I've just been taking it day by day, hoping I fly under everyone's radar. If I'd been smart, I would've gone to your Professor voluntarily, really. So please, don't keep rubbishing yourself over this. You're a great friend, and you always will be. I should be thanking you."

"Then why aren't you?"

"O great Rogue, fairest under the balmy heavens-" a grand, sweeping bow, here "-my gratitude is boundless, and words alone cannot express! Perchance you will accept my car and virginity instead!"

"Who'd want those old things?"

And for that instant, caught in Risty's inescapable headlock and laughing like a drunk hyena, everything felt normal again... or as close as I ever get.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH III


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh,  _geez_..."

I looked around the briefing room in horror. Way,  _way_  too many people were there. And if I was horrified, Risty was ready to wet herself; I could sense her edging behind me, trying to look insignificant.

"Hello, Rogue... Ms. Wilde," a voice said from my left.

 _"Oi!"_  Risty's hands gripped my shoulders - he has that effect on people.

"Sorry if I startled you with my... striking good looks," he said with a wan smile. "I am Dr. Henry McCoy, but you may call me Beast, if you like."

"A-aren't you, though," she stammered, gingerly shaking his massive, blue-furred hand.

"Mr. McCoy," I whispered, "why are there so many here? We can't need  _that_  many opinions!"

"Well, other than myself and Ororo, Charles thought it best to invite anyone that he could sense had already heard a rumour or two about your young friend. Better to quash such uninformed nonsense... especially the one about her being one of the Four Horsemen."

Risty blinked. _"Excuse_  me?"

Beast's muscular shoulders shrugged. "Don't kill the messenger."

Logan, Storm and the Prof were there, of course. I'd already figured on Scott, Jean and Kitty. And I guess Kitty's mouth was bigger than I thought, as I could also see Kurt, Bobby, Amara, Jubilee, Evan, Rahne, and even some kids I barely recognized at all. I'm sure Lance would've been there, too, if he wasn't a Brotherhood thug.

"Rogue..." Risty began. Before I could try to reassure her, Logan walked up to us.

"Heh, you kids look like yer gonna bolt back out that door," his slow half-growl said with wicked amusement. "Have a seat by Chuck, bub. Rogue, you've got yer usual spot."

"What?" Risty squeaked.

I knew that wasn't going to work. "Logan, I think maybe it'd be better if I sat by Risty. She's a little fidgety about this... well, we both are, I guess."

Logan squinted at me, folding his arms; he was sizing us up. "You two ain't gonna be playin' tic-tac-toe and gigglin' about boys, are ya?"

We hurriedly shook our heads.

"Run it by the Professor," he said, putting his hands in his pockets and going over to say something to Ororo. I dragged Risty across the room to do just what he suggested, ignoring the rude, suspicious stares from some of the other students.

"Good evening, Rogue... Miss Wilde." Xavier had the decency to put on a warm smile and shake Risty's hand, at least. "Of course, under the circumstances. We'll just ask everyone on my lefthand side to move down a place."

We both started; I recovered first. _"HEY!"_

"It's not very difficult to pick up on thoughts that are actually spoken aloud," he said, waving a hand. "In fact, it's almost  _more_  of an effort to shut them out."

"Risty," I said with an introductory tone, "meet Professor Charles Xavier, the world's leading expert in the field of eavesdropping."

He laughed genially - something I don't remember him doing often enough. "Not a very flattering title, but accurate enough. Please sit, and we'll get this underway."

It took him and the other teachers a few minutes to get the other kids to sit and quiet down. Once they had accomplished that, the Prof cleared his throat.

"Class," he began with a wry grin - he liked to start meetings off that way once in a while - "I believe you all have some inkling of why we're here. I'm quite glad Miss Wilde decided to join us, as hearing a story straight from the source is always the best and quickest path to the truth. If we'll all listen intently without interruption, I now give the floor over to her."

Risty gulped, and her eyes went wide. To be honest, neither of us had really expected to be speaking; I figured the Prof would tell them what I'd told him, picking up forgotten details from our memories. But he was right, yet again, and I placed a reassuring hand on hers. She nodded slightly, gave my hand a quick squeeze, and slowly stood.

"Okay, so... I know this will come as a bit of a shocker to the lot of you," she began shakily, "but..."

There was a flicker of a gleam in her eyes. I knew what was coming an instant before she said it, and decided I'd play along.

"...I'm a man."

Several gasps and a _"WHOA!"_ went up. Everyone was blinking, hands were over mouths, and I noticed Evan fall out of his chair. I glanced past her to see the Professor pretending to cough, hiding a chuckle.

I was the first to break. Risty was still doing that strained half-snort, trying to hold it together, but when she heard me start laughing she couldn't take it anymore and doubled over. The teachers were doing their best not to catch the giggles from us, though it already had Kitty and Scott in a deathgrip.

Nearly five minutes later, Xavier finally called for quiet, shooting a would-be reproachful look at Risty.

"Terribly sorry, all," she said breathlessly, wiping her eyes. "It couldn't have been a better setup - I just tossed in the punchline."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Twenty minutes or so crawled by as Risty spoke into the silent room. Even the gasps and exclamations of disbelief and shock were muted - they all wanted to find out the whole story, and being noisy kind of interfered.

Myself, I had trouble watching her. It was hard enough to hear this painful tale once, to feel vicariously everything she'd felt all those months, and even afterward. And I didn't have to be the Professor to see it didn't get any easier to tell. I don't know if she knew it right then, but I totally had her back, even though what I wanted most was to ask Kurt to teleport her and me outta there.

But Risty was winding down. She stopped in mid-sentence, actually - suddenly realizing there was nothing else to say, she sat down with a mixture of surprise and relief in her features.

"Thank you, Risty," Professor X said quietly, giving her hand a brief pat. He cleared his throat, then continued. "I hope that will put to rest all these stories about Risty being some sort of unholy harbinger. I also hope it will teach some of us not to spread such unfounded information."

As his eyes fell on her, Kitty sank lower in her chair.

"On to more pressing matters. Now that you know the reality, I think we need to discuss what should be done. This situation presents a very real danger to all parties involved, and some kind of action is imperative. My colleagues, Rogue and I have tossed around a few ideas, but as long as we're all gathered, we wanted to ask you students if you had any suggestions." He paused a moment before adding, "Also, if you have any queries for Miss Wilde, now would be the time to bring them up."

They all looked uneasily at each other, obviously as scared as I was to recommend anything directly to the big man himself... especially anything that could decide the fate of some girl they hardly knew. Was this whole plan a bust?

"Are you... doing it right now?"

"Hmm?" Risty looked up when she realized she was being spoken to.

Hesitantly, Amara continued. "Y'know... 'playing dead' or whatever you'd call it."

"No, but I could be." Somehow, even though there was no outward expression to prove it other than her bleak smile, I knew she had just done it as she started speaking. In fact, even as I was thinking this, I saw both the Professor's and Jean's eyes widen, confirming it.

"That's... alarming," Jean whispered.

"The fact that her life force suddenly winked out," Xavier said quietly, "or that you can still sense her mind?"

Jean blinked, concentrated for a moment, then gasped. "I hadn't noticed her mind was still there!"

"I know when my intelligence is being bollocked," Risty said, folding her arms. Her expression changed when she saw the tears forming in Jean's eyes. "What's...?"

"Stop it."

Risty's head tilted to one side. "Stop what?"

"Start your heart again," she pleaded. "It's so... uncomfortable."

Maybe I got mad at Jean a lot in those days, and usually over nothing. Now, I was furious, and this was  _not_  nothing. How dare she complain about it being  _uncomfortable_ when Risty didn't ask for this ability, or to be ambushed by a committee of morons who wanted to study her? I could almost hear the steam hissing from Risty's ears, too, and I was trying to think up a scathing retort when I heard the Professor in my mind.

_'Yes, I know. She really shouldn't have said such a thing; it was uncalled for and selfish. Perhaps, however, it would be better to table that discussion for the nonce and concentrate on the situation at hand. I promise you I will speak with her about this later - at great length.'_

I glanced at Risty; it seemed she'd received the same message from the way she glanced at me, too. We both looked away in time to see Jean start, blush, and look down at her hands in shame - she'd just received a mental smack-down. I took some pleasure in seeing a few of the others were glaring at her.

"Now," Xavier said with a sigh, "any other questions? Any suggestions?"

"Does it hurt?" Bobby asked.

Risty came close to laughing from that. "Not really."

"Shouldn't your skin be pale?" Kurt ventured in his heavy European accent. "That is, if no blood is pumping, then-"

"I can do that, too, if you like."

 _"What?"_ I whispered.

"Don't be too upset with me, luv," she said quietly, looking at me sideways with a mixture of guilt and remorse in her eyes. "I... I reckoned you'd had enough shocks for one evening."

In abject horror, I watched the pigment fade from her skin as she stood, leaving it ashen-gray. Her eyes turned a sickly yellow colour, and her lips went blue-violet. When Risty stood up, she took my stomach with her; now she really  _did_  look like a corpse.

I think Professor Xavier was the only one who didn't lose it - he just looked a bit antsy. As X-Men, we saw more than our fair share of unusual sights and people, but we had basically just watched someone die right in front of us, without warning or reason. That was above and beyond for most of us. I could hear Jean retching, unable to stomach the sight combined with her sixth sense. I was tempted to do that myself, as the smell of decaying flesh began to reach my nose.

"Risty, don't,  _stop!"_  I shouted. "What if you go too far?"

"Relax," she said. "Even if my flesh starts to... to abandon ship, I can regenerate it... but I usually don't let it get that bad. It takes a great deal of energy to come back to the living from that far gone - knocks me flat on my arse."

And just as unnaturally as it had gone, her skin and eyes slowly began to regain their colour. As her lips began to pinken, Ororo created a slight breeze to waft away the "eau de morgue", and when everybody could bear to look at Risty again, we saw she was sweating and leaning heavily against the table.

"Obviously, I don't... have much practice."

"Well," Xavier said, coughing, "as much as I had hoped for a few more courses of action, it's seeming more and more that Rogue's recommendation may be best."

"Oh?" Risty said, glancing at him but mostly staring at me. "And what's to be done with the poor, undead waif?"

"It was only an idea," I mumbled. I didn't want to be the one changing her life forever.

"Miss Wilde," Xavier continued in a more formal tone, "I would like to extend an invitation to you. The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters is ready to welcome you with open arms."

"Come again?" she said, rounding on him.

"Live here, explore your powers. Surrounded by others who share similar gifts, you'll be better guarded against anyone who might wish to abuse your knowledge - or worse."

"Hang on a tick. You want me to..." Risty laughed nervously. "Me, an X-Man? But I... I'm not even a mutant!"

"What else would you call it?" Beast asked, half snarky, half genuinely curious.

"Weird," she replied. I noticed she was backing away from the table. Did anyone else? "I was just a normal tyke before all this happened, I'm-"

"Even if your mutation is solely a result of your experiences," Beast continued, "it's still a mutation."

"That's not a certainty, either," Xavier added. "Perhaps you already possessed a dormant X-gene, and the encounter awakened it. It's possible that you wouldn't have survived if you were purely Homo sapien."

Funny, but I figured this notion would've occurred to Risty before now. Obviously not.

"You're mental," she croaked. This merited a few raised eyebrows around the room. "But I'm not, I'm just- just-"

"What's her codename gonna be?" Jubilee asked, suddenly excited. "Zombie Girl?"

"Lady Death!" Kitty suggested.

"Taken," Kurt told her. "Please try again."

"Shoot," she whispered.

"Necronomicon?" Rahne said.

"Probably patented or something," Evan replied.

"You're all nutters!" Risty shouted. They meant well, but those dweebs were only making things worse. I stood up and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"C'mon," I whispered. "They're just trying to help in their own stupid way."

"But th... this is insane! And  _you!_  You put them up to it! It was all your blasted idea!"

"Nobody's gonna  _make_  you move in here," I soothed. "You have to decide that for yourself. And I promise we're not gonna brainwash you or dissect your organs, okay?"

Her eyes were darting around wildly, searching for a way out of the room. I had to do something before I lost Risty to the recesses of her own mind. Nobody else noticed me doing it - and good thing, too, since my carefully-constructed reputation would've melted into a puddle before my eyes.

"Risty," I whispered, gripping one shoulder more firmly, stroking her cheek with my other hand. "It's okay. They won't hurt you. I'll be here."

After a few seconds, her pupils fixated on mine, and her hand met mine on the side of her head. When I smiled reassuringly, she glanced over at the table, where the kids were still heatedly debating over codenames. "They... s-seem to enjoy living here alright... d... d'you?"

"Yeah." I laughed softly. "It's a place to hang my gloves, ain't it?"

Risty gulped and nodded, then turned to the Professor. "This... this X-Men business... can I accept it on a trial basis?"

"Most of us did," Evan answered for him. A few other kids nodded.

"Some of us were dumb enough to turn it down," I said softly. "'Course, we got out there and saw how much the competition blew, so we came back."

"Come forth, Lazarus," Beast quoted with a laugh. "Join the jamboree! Maybe you'll find we're not so terrible after all."

_"THAT'S IT!"_

Everyone turned to look at Amara, a bit startled at the usually-meek girl's outburst. "Lazarus!" she repeated. "It's perfect!"

Risty frantically interrupted the growing murmur of assent. "Oi! Don't I get to decide my own bloody nickname? And that one won't work, at any rate; it's a male name."

"You did say you vere a man," Kurt said, shrugging as he grinned.

Risty probably would've protested if she thought anybody would hear her; as it was, they were all too busy laughing.

"Welcome to the team, Lazarus," I giggled, throwing my arm around her slumping shoulders.

"Urgh. I ought to chew that arm off..." But by that point, it was getting harder and harder for her not to smile.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH IV


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the POV-switching begins. If you'll notice, I went by their codenames.

"Well, at least I know, now."

I glanced up from my biology homework, and the first question that had begun to form on my lips faded; she didn't look so hot. "Risty, what is it?"

"The X-gene... I have it." She walked over and flopped next to me on the bed. "Your esteemed Professor and his Cerebro said as much. I guess the chemicals just flipped the switch."

I reached over and poked her in the side. "This doesn't really matter, does it? You're still Risty."

"No, I'm 'Lazarus'," she corrected, smiling ruefully. "What an awful moniker. Better than 'Zombie Girl', I suppose."

"Hey, c'mon, you'll see. And at least we live in the same place, now, right? Makes it easier for me to beat you at Tekken more often."

" _Hah!_  Hell freezing over wouldn't even herald a triumphant comeback for  _you_ , Miss Mash-all-the-buttons!"

"Oh yeah? You and me, the day room; best of three!"

"What?" Her face lit up. "You mean to say they have a PlayStation in this place?"

I grinned. "Just another form of 'combat training', after all."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Bobby, Evan and Kurt were extremely impressed that the new girl knew her way around Tekken - especially when she mopped the floor with them in it. And Street Fighter. And Budokai.  _And_  Soul Calibur.

"I give, man," Evan sighed, tossing the controller to me again. "She's got moves I never dreamed existed."

"Maybe ve should be calling her 'Codename: Chun-Li', instead," Kurt said in awe.

Just as we were switching to Gran Turismo for a change of pace (the guys were hoping she wouldn't own them in racing, too), Logan walked in, arms crossed.

"Do you brats know what time it is?"

"Uh... no?" Bobby ventured.

"The Danger Room awaits," Evan moaned, holding in the RESET button to put the console in sleep mode.

"You mean that kooky training arena?" Risty asked. "Good luck."

"Yer supposed ta come, too, Lavender," Logan said.

"Lazarus," Kurt corrected.

"Her hair says different."

We laughed as we exited the day room, despite the prospect of another potentially-humiliating afternoon session with Logan. I could tell Risty was especially on edge.

"I doubt I'll be of any use in there."

"Don't matter," Logan said, not deigning to turn around as he lead us to the elevator. "First time in's always a 'how bad do you suck?' run. After that, we work with what ya got and build on it."

"I'm only good at  _virtual_  fisticuffs!" she whined.

"Yeah? And what're ya gonna do when the Brotherhood starts gunnin' for ya? Throw a couple memory cards at 'em?"

Risty looked uneasy for a moment. "Point taken, sir."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"I look like an absolute  _wank_ er!"

A sigh escaped my lips as my eyebrow went up. "You want a tattered gray nightgown and some chains instead?"

Risty gazed down in dismay at her brand new navy-blue-and-gold uniform. "That would be a step in the right direction, yes! At least  _yours_  has green accents."

"You'll get a custom uniform when you move up in rank," Scott said, tightening a bootstrap. "Just be glad we had a spare that fits you."

"Oh, yes," she grumbled. "I must be the luckiest girl in all the lands."

"Alright, you slackers," Logan said as he walked in. "Up t' the observation deck."

As Risty and I walked by, he grabbed her by the shoulder. "Not you, bub."

"Huh?"

"Like I said earlier, it's time ta find out whatcha got. Yer goin' in solo."

I bet if she weren't made of tougher stuff, she'd have fainted. As it was...

"Are you  _MAD?_  I can't shoot lasers or punch through concrete!" It pained me to see how badly she was shaking; like a leaf in a tornado. "What the bloody hell am I supposed to do in there, scare the sods with my unnaturally blue lips?"

Before I knew what was happening, Logan's fist was heading for Risty's face. Before I could scream in reaction to that, she was holding his wrist over her shoulder, the other hand halfway to his ribs when she stopped herself.

"How... how did I..."

"I'd say you picked up some of Mystique's reflexes, Lavender." Logan's mouth twisted into a grin. "You oughtta be fine. Just stay frosty in there."

Risty turned to me; we were both trembling. "I-I've no idea where that came from, there was no conscious effort, I just...  _reacted!_  Am... am I a monster?"

I couldn't speak. If she hadn't stopped herself, if she'd followed through... that would've been a crippling blow, even for Logan. As he grabbed my elbow to lead me out the door, I couldn't help thinking, 'Who is she, and what's she done with my best friend?'

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"Okay, 'Lazarus'... you can do this..."

Oh,  _there's_  the ticket - not only was I in hot water, but I was talking to myself! A zombie mutant schizophrenic. Look out, world!

Logan had led Rogue up to the observation deck, leaving me alone with my churning thoughts and grating nerves. Any moment, the light above the door would blink on, and that would be my cue to dash in swinging, I suppose.

"Jesus!" I cried out to the ceiling. "What've I ever done to you?"

The light went green - the door swished open. In I went.

I was in a warehouse.

"Er...  _what?"_  was all I could think to shout. Then it dawned on me; rummaging through Mystique's leftover knowledge, I 'remembered' that the Danger Room was equipped with holographic imagery. That little surprise sorted, I steeled myself for advancing hordes of giant robots and lions and such.

Instead, a single street punk ran at me with a blackjack.

"Heavens," I said, stepping to the side and tripping the sod. "I do hope it's all this easy."

Of course, as he got back to his feet, five more emerged from behind large crates, hefting chains and lead pipes.

"Hopes dashed again."

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

"Professor-!" I exclaimed.

"Quiet, Rogue," Xavier hissed, his eyes never leaving Risty's progress in the room below. "I promise I'll stop the simulation the moment it becomes too much for her."

"Teach," Evan said, "you don't usually start us out this heavy. What gives?"

"From the results of the small test Logan... implemented before her session, I do believe Miss Wilde may already be able to handle R-3. Perhaps beyond."

"Professor, she shouldn't even be on that until next week," Scott said with a concerned tone. "Two weeks, maybe."

"Exactly."

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

I was sweating like a pig on a spit and my hideous uniform sported numerous tears, but I was thoroughly pleased with myself. So far, nothing they'd thrown at me had stood for long against my awesome might.

Unfortunately, I was also on the verge of exhaustion. To be kind, I wasn't much of an athlete; to be brutally blunt, I was a total weakling, and I moved scarcely more than I absolutely had to in order to survive. Yet, as a hulking giant at least a metre taller than me rushed forward, I somehow found the reserves to take to the air and remove his head cleanly with a well-placed kick, rolling to my feet behind him.

"Hah," I wheezed, inches from sinking into mental oblivion. "Is... is that all y'..."

There are three phrases you should never,  _ever_  say - especially if you happen to be Risty Wilde: "Is that all you got?", "What else can go wrong?" and "What's the worst that can happen?" Granted, the three are quite similar, but they must be broken down so as not to accidentally say one without realizing it's a Forbidden Phrase.

The door swished open. I whirled to see Logan walking in.

"I... I thought this was a solo run."

"Oh, I'm not here to 'get yer back'," he growled.

"...Shite."

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

I couldn't take it any longer. What were they thinking, pitting a rookie like her against  _Wolverine,_  a veteran in every sense of the word?

"Professor, this is going too far! She's gonna get creamed out there, you can't-"

"That's enough, Rogue." He spared a sharp glance in my direction. "Logan knows well enough how to test pupils without endangering their safety. The moment either he or I feel this session is over, it will end. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," I mumbled.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

Dimly, I realized my fighting stance now resembled that of a Drunken Master. That had less to do with liquor or martial arts expertise, and more to do with my knees threatening to buckle at any given moment.

"C'mon, then," I slurred. "Kick m' bloody arse. I dare y'."

Logan grinned. "Suit yerself." Then he rushed me.

I haven't the faintest idea how I did it. I didn't intend to do anything but make a feeble attempt to kick him in the bollocks - mostly just to buy me time to figure out whether or not collapsing on top of him could be an effective attack. I couldn't help thinking, 'If only he'd just give up and run away...'

He hesitated. Why? I didn't care; I followed through with my "plan", and he crumpled to the floor, of course.

I'm sure everyone watching through that window was quite aghast, but I assure you I was moreso. My attack was cheap, desperate and obvious - Mystique's training told me as much. Had he simply not expected such a lousy, underhanded tactic? Or maybe...

It made no sense. That was the long and short of it. I'd have to ask him why he'd hesitated... if he ever stopped rolling around the room, clutching his precious stones.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

_"LEMME AT 'ER!"_

Down in the prep room, Beast, Spyke, Iceman and Wolfsbane were holding onto Wolverine for dear life, barely able to keep him from tearing Risty's head off.

"I'm sorry, really,  _really_  sorry!" she screamed, terrified of the snarling, furious creature in front of her. Well, in front of me, the person she was hiding behind.

 _"Yer gonna be!"_  he bellowed.

Unable to watch this anymore, I darted forward, yanked off my glove, and brushed Logan's cheek as briefly as I could. He sank to the ground, groaning and rubbing his forehead.

"I was going to suggest a tranquilizer gun," Beast said, rubbing his wrist, "but that'll do in a pinch."

"Logan," the Professor said as he wheeled in. "Are you... relatively unharmed?"

"Unghhh... ask me again in a few years."

"Very well." After staring at Logan in concern for a few more seconds, he turned to Risty. "That was quite a remarkable performance. A little training to get your muscles up to the level of your fighting prowess, and I daresay you'll make a fine X-Man."

"Professor," she pleaded, "you must believe me, I didn't mean to, I didn't think he'd simply  _let_  me obliterate his-"

"Yes," he cut in, turning back to where Beast was helping Logan up and onto a bench. "Why did you simply accept her attack? It's unlike you to let your guard down in the heat of battle."

"I felt somethin'... dunno, felt like... like I was bein' watched."

"Eh?"

"Well," he said as a pained smile stretched across his face, "I think the scientific term is 'the willies'."

"May I?" the Prof said, rolling his wheelchair over to Logan's side.

"Go for it."

With his hands on either side of Logan's head, Professor X went rooting around in his mind. Less than a minute went by before he sat back and said, "Ah."

"Ah, what?" I asked - and noticed my voice was slightly deeper from the brief contact with Logan.

"Wolverine's 'willies', as he called them, were actually caused by a low-level empathic pulse, very basic and vague in nature."

"In American...?" Bobby prompted.

"It seems our Lazarus can give people the heebie-jeebies," Beast explained.

"Great," she said, sitting down heavily and running her hands through her purple mop. "Y'know... it'd be a bit of alright if I got a few powers that made me  _less_  creepy."

Then she passed out.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH V


	6. Chapter 6

"What to do?"

"Hmm?" I replied as I handed over my money.

"Are we supposed to sit there, now?" Risty elaborated, pointing to a table where several of my fellow X-Men sat. Sorry -  _our_  fellow X-Men. Even though a few days had gone by, I was still getting used to the idea of Risty being part of the team.

"Why would we?" I hefted my lunch tray and headed to our usual spot.

"How should I know? I'm still adjusting to this whole 'Homo superior' thing."

"I'm one, and I never sit there."

"I thought that was because you couldn't do without my company," she said smugly.

"Right. As long as you ain't conceited or anything."

"You couldn't have invited me over there, of course."

I blinked. "Why not?"

"You know..." Her voice lowered conspiratorially. "The whole mutant bit."

"Oh, yeah." It had never really hit me that Risty couldn't sit at the "X-Table" since she might overhear some sensitive information. "Guess I couldn't have."

"Why  _are_  you so stand-offish with them?"

"I'm not." I got situated on my bench before continuing. "They're like family. And I don't know anybody that wants to hang out with their brothers and sisters  _all_  the time."

"Point there," Risty muttered. "Clive used to drive me bonkers."

"Your older brother, right?" It always caught me off guard when Risty mentioned her family, since it seemed to happen annually - if that often.

"Right. You wouldn't believe how long it took for the teasing about my hair to get old. He'll probably still call me 'Barney Brains' when I get back to England... well,  _if_  I do."

"If?"

"Well, I'm a 'gifted one', now, aren't I? I thought we were supposed to live at the Institute permanently."

"You can still visit your folks," I managed around a mouthful of lime jello. "Christmas, and Summer vacation. Most kids do."

"But what about the danger?" She flicked an anchovy off her pizza. Yeah, I know... and no matter how many petitions get passed around, Bayville High still makes it that way. But enough about gross school food... "What about the Brotherhood, and all the other bogey-men?"

"Forgot about them," I admitted, glancing over at where Lance and Pietro were throwing pickles at each other. "Well, maybe they could come here?"

Risty's bitter laugh surprised me. "Not bloody likely. My parents think of America as 'the land of over-paid, overweight tourists'. I don't reckon they'd be too keen on flying over just to pet the black sheep a few times."

Even though she was talking about herself, I felt a very real pang in my chest. "Hey, c'mon..."

"Oh, it's true. Their beloved Clive is in law -  _law,_  mind! Mum and Dad are both physicians, and Jenna is studying to be a realtor. They think I have no direction because I haven't already latched onto astrophysics or some other equally-'noble' career path."

I filed that away for further contemplation. Did Risty really feel like her family thought she was worthless? "Yeah, well, what do they know? I like you just fine, even if you don't have your 'compass', yet."

She flashed me a smile before she sighed. "It's wonky... they post me over here, a place they loathe, hoping the experience will 'sort out my priorities'. Well, if their goal was to prove to me just how awful it is in Yankee Country, they may be disappointed."

"Glad our borders still have something to offer the British."

"It was all you, y'know." For some reason, she was acting really shy. "If I hadn't met you that first day, I probably would've been absolutely miserable."

"Miserable, but alive."

Her eyes snapped up, boring into me. "Now you stop that. I never want to hear you blame yourself for what happened."

"How? You said so yourself, you were on your way to-"

 _"Stop it!"_  she repeated, grabbing my shoulders. "Who bloody cares where I was going or what I was doing? You're not being fair to yourself!"

"But I don't see how I can just act like- like it's not-"

We were both horrified to realize we were crying again. This subject  _had_  to get easier someday, didn't it?

"Rogue," she said, trying to steady her breathing, "that's enough. If I had everything to do over again, even knowing what would happen, I'd have done just the same. No regrets, luv."

If we hadn't been in the quad at Bayville High School, surrounded by a sea of onlooking gossips, it might've been a repeat of the gas station. As it was, Risty glanced around at the sea of eager faces, wide-eyed with rapt attention; she hesitated a moment, then threw her arms around my neck and cried out,  _"I LOVE YOU, MUFFIN-TOP!"_

Quick as a flash, the first person we heard retching sounds from got a face-full of Risty's pizza. I think the ensuing food fight pretty much commandeered the gossipers' attention.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Quit it, already!"

Risty sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "I thought I was supposed to be honing my 'heebie-jeebies', and here you tell me to stop!"

"Sorry, but you're gonna have to find another guinea pig! If you ask me, it works fine, already!" Kitty stomped out of our room, rubbing her arms and shivering.

"Guess she can't take the cold," I laughed.

"Blegh." Risty sank into Kitty's now-vacant chair. "I still don't see the point in sharpening such a useless skill."

"How is it useless? If you can distract opponents with it, they'll fall like dominoes under your physical attacks."

"Oh, get out of it."

"Aww," I cooed, getting up and patting her on the head. "Did I crash Lazarus's pity party?"

"Oi!" She knocked my hand away. "You'll dishevel the 'do!"

Before I could follow through with my snide comment, a knock came at the open door jamb. I glanced up to see Kurt peering around the corner.

"Yeah?"

"I vanted to talk vith you, just for a sec." He shifted uneasily when he spied Risty. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know you vere busy, I'll-"

"No, it's okay. Is this private, or..."

"Actually..." He seemed to think that over. "Vell, maybe more opinions vould help." After closing the door behind him, he sat gingerly on Kitty's desk. "It's about Amanda."

"What, did you knock her up?"

A glare. "Seriously not funny. No, no, I just... vell, she knows vhat I am."

 _"She does?"_  Risty flinched from my outburst.

"It's okay, she says she von't tell," he continued hurriedly, waving his hands. "She thinks it's 'cool', or something. And she still likes me, even vith the fuzz. I..."

"You?" Risty prodded impatiently.

"Vell, I've never had a girlfriend before. For obvious reasons." He clicked off his image inducer for a moment to allow the blue fur underneath to reinforce his point. "I just... I don't know vhat to do."

I shrugged. "The movies are always a good start."

"No, no, no!" Now he was pacing. "I mean, do I start calling her, or vait for her to call me? Vhat sort of presents do I buy her? Should I make my image inducer dress me in sharper threads, or vould that be too superficial?"

"Relax, son," Risty said, laughing. "You're fine the way you are. Of course, coming from me, that's probably not much of a... of... what are you two gawking at?"

"Vhy do you sound like..." Kurt said slowly, his eyes narrowing before they shot open. _"Mein Gott,_  I completely forgot!"

After a moment of confusion, Risty's hand shot to her mouth. "Christ, I- did I say what I think I said? Why did I say that?"

"Um, Risty, please don't do that again," I said shakily. "It's freaky hearing you channel her like that."

"I'm sorry, Kurt," she pleaded, reaching toward him. "I'm sure you don't want to be reminded of- of-"

"I just asked my  _MOTHER_  for dating advice!" he wailed, slumping to the floor.

"I... I should go," Risty whispered. Before I could form a thought, she was out the door and running through the halls.

"That was so  _vierd,"_  Kurt mumbled. "Are you  _sure_  they actually split bodies?"

At the moment, I wasn't sure of anything.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

A lump formed in my throat as I widened the door, afraid of what I might find. Even now, I'm not sure if I was more relieved or shocked when I spotted Risty in the corner of her room, face buried in the knees of her oversized khakis.

"Hello? Any budding mediums in here?"

"Please," she sobbed. "Don't."

Anybody in that hallway could've heard my heart shattering if they listened close enough. I moved across the room and knelt next to her, reaching for her arm. "Listen-"

"I want them gone," she choked out. "All of them. Maybe Xavier can do it, he has-"

"What are you talking about?"

"That tramp's bloody memories. I don't want to carry them around any longer. I want them  _OUT!"_  Suddenly, she started beating her fists into her temples; I grabbed her hands as quickly as I could.

"Stop, Risty! Don't do that, you might really hurt yourself!"

"Who  _cares?"_

 _"I_ do!" When I felt her arms go limp, I released her wrists. "For my sake... don't ever do that again, okay?"

She looked up blearily, and I could see her eyeliner was running a tad. "Why me? Why was I in the wrong place at the wrong time? Why did that bitch have to single me out?"

"I'm sorry, Risty... I wish there was something I could do, I-"

"So do I." She held her knees closer. "Not that it's your fault; I don't blame you, and I never will. I just..."

"Yeah?"

"I wish she hadn't been there... then maybe we'd still be friends, and I wouldn't be so eerie, and Kurt could talk to me without worrying about his mum's ghost."

My eyebrows knitted. "Wait a minute, what do you mean, 'still be friends'? We are... aren't we?" A sinking sensation began to form in the pit of my stomach. Did I do something?

"We're not; now we're comrades-in-arms. Everything's so confused; before, I knew we could count on one another for support, to share tales and have a laugh... but now..."

"Now?"

No response. She was too busy biting her lip, struggling with inner demons.

"Risty, none of that's changed. We're still 'mates', as you'd say. Well... I'm still yours."

"But what if..." Those hazel eyes were looking at something I couldn't see. "What if something happens? What if we're facing down some villain and I botch everything? What if I make a mistake, if I'm not strong enough, or fast enough, and..."

I waited patiently, my hand on her shoulder. She still couldn't look at me.

"Rogue, what if you die? What if I misstep and it costs you your life? I don't want to be responsible for sending my best friend to her grave!"

Anguish choked me as hard as it had been choking her. I couldn't believe she was so concerned about me - that anyone was, really. "Oh, Risty..."

"Worse yet, what if... what if Mystique's personality resurfaces - and it's not her motherly side? I could attack you!"

"That won't happen!"

"How do you know? How can you be sure I won't go berserk and-"

"You won't! I know you won't, 'cause you're you!" I took a second to swallow hard, to slow my racing pulse. "Risty, Mystique's not pulling the strings anymore, and even if you start to think like her,  _you're_ in control! You can kick her dusty old memories to the curb! She's  _your_  bitch, now!"

A half-laugh, half-sob issued from her knees. What else could I do but keep my hand on her shoulder? This was not a burden anyone should bear, so I was gonna make damn well sure she didn't bear it alone.

"I'm not worthy of being an X-Man. I can manage a few kung-fu moves, and a decent imitation of Morticia Addams. What good is that against sods that can move rocks with their minds?"

"Hey, at least you have your own powers; I have to get mine on loan."

She smiled up at me - a genuinely grateful smile. "Cheers, Rogue. I'd be lost without you."

"I know." After a few seconds, I reached toward her face. "Your make-up is kinda smudged..."

"Oh, sorry," a voice from the doorway said. "Did I interrupt a tender moment?"

The look of combined nervousness, excitement and alarm made me realize what it must have looked like to Lance Alvers. I lowered my hand, and Risty scooted away an inch or two.

"What do  _you_  want?" I spat.

"Hey, easy," he said hastily, backing away a step and holding up his hands. "I'm not here to judge; just lookin' for Kitty. Seen her?"

"She was up here a while ago." I tried to wipe my eyes nonchalantly (and probably failed). "Probably in the pool, now."

"Hey... you guys okay?"

"It's none of your beeswax," I said.

His arms folded over that ugly brown vest of his. "Well, excuse me, princesses. Anyway, I better go find Kitty. Uh... carry on!" He ran for the stairs before I could throw anything at him.

"The nerve," Risty mumbled.

"Hey..."

"Hnnh?"

"You were in the Brotherhood house a lot... right?" When a grumpy frown was her only response, I pressed on. "Is... tell me, is Lance just a big jerk, or is Kitty smarter than I thought?"

She seemed to consider this for a while. "No, Kitty's definitely an airy one." We both laughed before she continued. "Lance... he's not as bad as the other boys. There's a good heart buried underneath all that angst and thickness."

"Hmm..."

Before I could go any further with that, Kurt poked his head in. "Mom?"

Risty blanched. "Look, I said I was-"

"Kidding, kidding," he laughed nervously, walking inside. "But I am sorry for freaking out before... it vasn't fair of me. I'm sure if I vas inside someone's head for a vhile, I'd probably pick up a few personality traits."

"Got that right," I muttered.

"Let's just start fresh," he said, extending a three-fingered hand. "Forget this whole mother-son episode,  _Ja?"_

"I can live with that." She accepted the offered appendage with a grin.

_"PIZZA!"_

We glanced at the doorway in time to see a brown-and-yellow blur. "Pizza dude's  _finally here!"_  Evan exclaimed as he thundered toward the stairs.

"Let's take the shortcut to the kitchen," Kurt said in a low voice, "or else Pincushion there vill get all the pepperoni and bacon!"

"Shortcut?" Risty asked as he grabbed our shoulders. "I don't-"

And a puff of acrid smoke was the room's sole occupant.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH VI


	7. Chapter 7

I don't think the showers had ever felt better than after that gruelling Danger Room session. Logan had really put us through our paces; nine of the kids had been "killed" by the paintball splats - including me. Just Cyclops, Magma and Kitty made it out alive, and Kitty only made it because the paintballs couldn't hit her.

Actually, one other X-Man survived...

"That was ripping good fun!" Risty said cheerily as I pulled a clean shirt over my still-damp hair. Her uniform was a mess - none of it paint, though. "I've come to find these mock-battles invigorating!"

"That's because you kick ass," I grumbled. So I was a little grouchy; I'd been picked off less than a minute into the exercise when Bobby used me as a human shield. I'd get him for that.

"Cheer up, luv," she panted, leaning heavily on my shoulder. "At least Iceman fared little better; he was dispatched just seconds after you."

"Whatever, it's fine." I shoved a boot on and started buckling it.

"I'd better hit that shower," she said, wiping her brow. "I'm a living tribute to grime everywhere!"

"Enjoy."

As Risty grabbed her towel and toiletries, I stomped out the locker room door, only to run into Scott on the other side.

"Whoa, where's the fire?"

"Sorry..."

"Hey," he said, probably noticing the vein popping out on my forehead. "Bobby's gonna get his for what he did. No need to go tear him limb from limb yourself."

"I know." Inspiration seized me. "Scott, where's the Prof?"

"The Professor? Hmm... I think he's off doing some kinda community service thing."

"Community service? What'd he do?"

An eyebrow raised above his visor. "People can do stuff like that just for the good of humanity, you know."

"Right..."

"Why, what's up?" We started making our way to the elevator.

"Well, I've been thinking about putting in some extra time in the Danger Room... y'know, heighten my game."

"Why? You're a key member of the team - nothing lacking, as far as I've seen. You're a good, conscious fighter." He caught the look on my face and sighed. "Today's a bad example."

"Or a good example of why I need to step it up."

"Well, I admire your dedication, but... look, just talk to the Professor when he gets back. I think you're doing great, though."

Under different circumstances, the compliment from Scott probably would've turned me crimson and tripped up my words, but I was too preoccupied for it to penetrate me that far. "Thanks." The elevator dinged and opened onto the second floor. "Well, see ya."

"Later." He looked over his shoulder at me for a second before opening the door to his room and walking inside.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Rogue... why so glum, chum?"

"Nothin'."

Risty crept over to me, eyes alight with wicked amusement darting into the corners of the kitchen. "I've got something that'll cheer you up, I reckon... c'mon, quick!"

"What-"

Her hand clamped on my arm, and before I could give voice to my protests she was dragging me upstairs.

"You won't believe what I've stumbled upon," she giggled. "I just hope we're not too late!"

"What, what is-"

"Shh!" We had reached the end of my hallway. "Quiet, now..."

To my confusion, it was my door Risty was creeping toward, half-crouched and still clutching my arm. My mouth opened, but she raised a preemptive finger to her lips. Then I heard something from the inside.

"What on...?"

"Vhat are ve looking at?" a voice behind me hissed. Risty clamped her hand over my mouth just before I screamed.

 _"Shh!"_ she hissed back at Kurt. "Listen." The giggles were getting louder.

"Who's in there?" he whispered.

A voice drifted out from the crack under the door - muffled, but still distinguishable. "Lance, cut it out..."

"Kitty," Risty breathed, her impish grin spreading. "And company, obviously."

"Heilige Scheiße," Kurt said in hushed tones. "You don't think-"

"I do."

"Holy shit," I mouthed. "That's  _my_  room, too! They better not be messin' around on my bed, or..."

"Hey, what-  _oooohhh..."_

After hearing that, all three of us forgot what we were saying; the show was getting more intense.

"Oh, Kitty..." The hallway rumbled slightly, almost knocking us over.

"Lance, d-don't, we- we shouldn't-  _MMMMHHH!_  Oh,  _Lance!"_

"What the hell are you locos doing?"

Everything was dead quiet in the mansion for ten agonizing seconds. Then Kurt, thinking quickly, grabbed Risty, me, and the bumbling Roberto and teleported us all to his room before Kitty or Lance could get up the nerve to check the hallway - assuming they didn't have to put their clothes back on, first.

"You GIT!" Risty said, flicking Roberto's ear as hard as she could. "Doesn't the sight of three people crouched on the floor, deathly silent and unmoving, send up any flares that  _maybe_  you shouldn't go shouting things like a braindead banshee?"

"Uhh..."

"I cannot believe it!" Kurt babbled, eyes wide in disbelief. "They vere... they vere..."

"Wearing out bedsprings," I finished for him.

 _"Not_ a mental picture I vanted!" He grabbed the sides of his head, plopping into his desk chair.

"One more time," Roberto said as his eyebrows knitted even more. "What the hell?"

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Even though we'd almost been caught at it - no thanks to Roberto - the little activity had made me forget all about my jealousy of Risty's semi-natural martial arts talent. She was my best friend, and I should be proud of her for doing so well... even if she was leaving me in the dust.

Just in case you were worried, we did get Roberto to promise he wouldn't squeal on us to Kitty or Lance. He was shocked, but we wouldn't let him leave Kurt's room until he swore.

Kitty was jumpy for the rest of the day. Every time I saw her, she was laughing nervously, talking to herself, or glancing around like a fox who'd been in the Queen's henhouse.

"Eventful day?" I asked innocently when she walked into our room later that evening.

 _"ACK!"_ She clutched her heart for a moment, then laughed nervously (again). "Wh-why do you ask?"

"You act all excited?"

"I'm... I'm nervous about, um, finals! Yeah!"

"Yeah?"

Her nod quickly turned into a shake. "No, of course not. Well, actually I am, yeah, but..."

"But what?" I pressed. Think of this as my revenge on her for spreading rumours about Risty; a little harmless torture. I was waiting for her to blow up at me and tell me to mind my own damn business.

That might be why it threw me when she suddenly flung herself on her bed and started crying. Between sobs, I heard words that suspiciously sounded like, "I'm not a slut! I'm  _not!"_

Torn between comforting her and clearing out to give her some privacy, I slowly moved to the middle of the room, fidgeting with a strap on my tank top. Finally, I knew I couldn't just leave her there, all alone and pitiful. That's almost cruel.

"Kitty, what's wrong?" I sat down next to her, petting her hair (like you would a cat, right?). "You can tell me."

"I... I think I made some mis- mistakes today," she blubbered, refusing to show me her face. "Big ones."

"Yeah?" What  _really_  went on in here earlier? "How big?"

"Ultra majorly über colossal," she moaned into the pillow. "Lance... he and I... we..."

"You... what?"

"Oh, come  _on!"_  Now she faced me, a look of stark desperation in her eyes. "D-Don't make me-!"

"I mean, how far?"

Almost relieved that I knew what she was talking about, her gaze dropped to the floor. "Like, shortstop or something."

_"Huh?"_

"We didn't go  _all_  the way!" she shouted indignantly; whether or not she thought that was a good thing, I couldn't tell. "But... it wasn't all over-the-clothes type stuff, either."

"Please tell me you didn't use my bed," I mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing. Look," I said uneasily, "do you know what you're doing? I mean, this is kind of a big thing, and Lance..."

Her eyes blazed as she looked up at me. "He's a great guy, Rogue. You don't know him like I do!"

"He's a Brotherhood thug, Kitty! You can't just ignore that!"

"I'm not! But... but I can't ignore my feelings, either! I really like him! It... it might even be the L-word!"

The sarcastic remark about how mature she was acting came to the surface of my mind, strained to get out, but somehow I bit it back. "Er... just be careful, okay? You don't want to be hearing the pitter-patter of little paws just yet."

"God, you sound like my mom," she said with disgust, then sighed. "You're right, though, I guess. But you don't know how bad the temptation is! Haven't you ever really wanted to just... y'know, like, keep going?"

"Can't say I have."

She rolled to her side, propping herself up on one elbow. "Oh, wow... me and my stupid mouth, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, Rogue, really..."

"Forget it."

"No, seriously," she said, sitting up and putting her hand on my forearm. "I've been acting like a selfish jerk about this, whining about Lance and me, and you can't even-"

"Hey, you didn't spin the roulette wheel of life that won me these stupid powers. Don't worry about it."

She nodded glumly for a second, then cleared her throat hesitantly. "Um, look... don't tell anybody about this, okay? I think some people already caught wind of it somehow, but... but if they knew the truth, I'd..."

"My lips are sealed." I performed the necessary hand motion of zipping them closed. Of course, I still felt like telling the whole damn school to get back at her... but this was way too personal, and just seeing the tears streaming from her glittering blue eyes was enough to tell me it wouldn't be worth it.

"Thanks." She smiled at me for a second, then sighed and flopped back on the bed. "This wouldn't be so weird if Lance hadn't gone back to those assholes..."

"Yeah..."

"Y'know, it's funny; Lance thought he heard somebody out in the hall, but when he went to check, nobody was there. You think maybe he just got cold feet?"

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Oh, wow... I feel absolutely horrible."

Risty leaned back against the wall, clutching her pillow. True to my word, I hadn't repeated any of the details, but I thought her and Kurt should know how scared and confused she was about all this.

"And here I vas just thinking about how crazy and disturbing it is," Kurt said, sitting down heavily in Risty's desk chair. "Poor Kitty..."

"We can't tell anybody about this," I said firmly. "I mean, she's our friend, right?"

"I know I wouldn't want anyone to know about my first hesitant sexual exploits," Risty agreed. "I didn't realize that's what we were listening to, I... I thought this was just the most recent! Christ, I feel like such a pervert!"

"Exactly," Kurt lamented. "Ve need some memory soap or something."

"Hey, so Shadowcat's not as innocent as we thought... so what?" There wasn't much else to say, but I couldn't stand how uncomfortable the silence was. "She's still Kitty. And you said so yourself, Risty... Lance ain't so bad."

A gasp from the doorway drew our attention.

"You promised," Kitty croaked.

"Kit-"

_"YOU PROMISED, DAMMIT!"_

"Hey, hey, I kept it!" I said quickly. "They already knew, I swear!"

"Y... you're lying!"

"She's not," Kurt said - and the tone of his voice made it clear he wished otherwise.

"Kitty, seriously, I didn't blab anything! I just wanted to shut down the rumour mill before it got started!"

All Kitty could do now was shake her head and sob, backing away as I moved toward her. It ate me up inside, knowing she thought I'd betrayed her in the worst way possible.

"I didn't tell them anything new besides how upset you were... I just, I thought they should know what a sensitive topic this is, and..."

She broke down in the hallway. We quickly pulled her into Risty's room (though the first time we tried, our hands passed through her out-of-phase arms) and gave her use of the spare bed.

"Why does everybody have to know?" she finally blubbered into the mattress. "We might as well have been on the front lawn!"

Risty and I petted her reassuringly; Kurt just sat there looking uncomfortable. When Risty's clock-radio quietly started playing "Get Down Make Love", Kitty's sobs began anew.

"Damn crap station," Risty muttered, bashing the offending device silent.

"Do you guys  _swear_  not to tell?" Kitty pleaded. "Unless... does anybody else know?"

The whole story came out, starting with Risty happening to hear something in the hall and ending with Kurt groaning about bad mental images. We all told an even amount, not wanting to share too much of the blame, or shove off too much on somebody else.

"So Roberto knows zippo," Kurt was saying. "Just that ve vere up to something, and  _somebody_  else vas."

"This is all my bloody fault," Risty cursed. "I dragged everybody into this. They didn't even know what was going on."

"Why'd you do that to me?" Kitty asked, her eyes flashing. "It's not funny, y'know!"

Hesitation. "I... I dunno, luv... it just seemed like you were trying to get away with something unseemly, and... and I suppose I was still a bit cross over you telling everyone my little secret - or trying to. It was childish of me."

Kitty's anger abated. "Man... I never did apologize for that, did I? God, I'm such a hypocrite!"

"Vhat ve need," Kurt interrupted, "is an all-night movie fest! Ve can bond, ingest mass quantities of junk food, and enjoy other people's misery onscreen!" He thought a moment, then added, "Maybe if ve vere a little better acquainted, ve von't keep ruining each other's lives, right?"

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

We accepted his suggestion, and it was everything he promised and more. By the end of "Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle", popcorn and Sno-Caps were all over the day room, and so were the sounds of hilarity; Bobby, Jubilee, Sam, Ray and Amara heard us at about midnight and came downstairs to see what was going on, and it wasn't long before Scott, Jean and Evan joined the party, too.

"Nuh-uh! You're full of it!"

"I swear, all true!"

"What a loser!"

"The worst thing," Risty continued, shaking so hard from unreleased giggles she nearly dumped nail polish all over Kitty's leg, "was when he said, 'So you're with the Hare Krishna?'"

The room erupted in laughter, hardly penetrated by Amara's innocent "I don't get it..."

Of course, half the movies we watched were worthless crap, and Kurt's imitation of Jim Carrey almost broke a floor lamp (thank God for Jean's telekinesis!), but at least we got to talk and goof around. Considering what the future held, I'm extremely glad we had that night to ourselves...

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH VII


	8. Chapter 8

"There you are," Risty said as I walked into her room, laying her magazine aside. "Finally over, eh? So what was all that nonsense?"

I shrugged, crawling onto her bed. "Some mutant case study of the Prof's went  _poof_  from a mental institution. We're supposed to be on the lookout for her... but he didn't even show us what she looks like, so I don't see the point in calling a meeting."

Risty nodded. "Well, guess- hang on..."

"Hmm?" I sat back up and was a little surprised to see Risty was clutching the edge of her desk, frozen stiff. "Risty, what's the matter?"

"She... escaped?"

"Well, Xavier thinks she was abducted, but he couldn't-"

"Was her name... Wanda, by any chance?"

"How'd you know?"

 _"Mystique!"_  Her eyes were wide with fear - and maybe a hint of frustration?

"What, what is it?"

"She's done it. I'll bet my knickers she's the one."

"Uh, I'm still missing something here..."

"Rogue, do you remember the party we had here at the Institute last Autumn?"

I rolled my eyes. "Like I could forget  _that_  disaster. Weber almost killed us with our own automated defences - all because he thought Cerebro was the prototype for tomorrow's X-Box."

"I... I tried to stop her, but- but I was so powerless, just a spectator, it-"

"Risty, what's going on? What happened last Fall?"

She turned and leaned back against her desk, sighing. "Before Weber started playing God Of Destruction with the mansion... Mystique asked him to throw all of Xavier's classified dossiers on a disc for her. One of those was Wanda Maximoff's psychological profile."

" _What?_  Mystique was here, and... and we didn't even know it?"

 _"I_  was there, wasn't I?" she said bitterly.

"Oh yeah..." Somehow I kept forgetting they were "Siamese twins" for a while.

"She spent a lot of time looking at Wanda's file. I could tell she was plotting something awful, and Wanda was a key part, but..." Her hands tugged at her purple hair. "If only I'd realised, if only I'd remembered and warned someone..."

"Hey, you remembered now," I said reassuringly. "We can still warn the Prof about Mystique, right?"

Risty stood and strode for the exit. "You do it. I don't deserve the honour."

"Where are-"

"I'm not an X-Man yet. It's not my place." As she reached the doorway, she hesitated, then told me without turning, "I need time to think. If I concentrate, I might come up with more helpful tidbits. Maybe, just maybe, I'll prove myself useful without it being moot this time."

I wanted to stop her from going, to tell her she wasn't being fair to herself, but I really didn't know what to say or how to say it. I sat on her bed for several minutes after she'd gone, then got up and left the room. She'd asked me to tell the Professor, and that was the least I could do for her.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Can't go in there," Kurt said, holding out his hands.

"Why not? And since when are you the X-Secretary?"

"I'm not," he said, leaning against a bookcase. "I'm only stopping you because I just tried the same thing. He's in there talking to Beast and Ororo about something, and they told me to come back later."

"What's wrong? I mean, that you wanted to talk to the Prof about."

"Vell..." I only noticed he was wearing a heavy jacket when he opened the front. It was more than a little startling to see Kurt had a sizable pair of mammaries.

_"What the-!"_

"It's the  _verpissen_ image inducer," he hissed, zipping the jacket up again. "The Professor did this to it last Autumn, to teach me a lesson... but today, it decided to revisit the past."

"I see."

"Stop laughing!"

"I can't help it," I said, unable to erase my grin. "Do we call you Katrina now?"

"Oh, you're a riot and a half," he grumbled, walking from the library with a sashay of his womanly hips. It's too bad, since the Professor's office door swung open a few seconds later.

"Kurt, you can- oh," Mr. McCoy said when he spotted me there. "Image inducer on the fritz again?"

"Yeah," I giggled, "but I'm not the one wearing it. Kurt just left."

"I see... are you here to drop in on Charles?"

"Oh, uh, yeah... I had something to tell him... about Wanda."

"Hmm," he answered, blue brow furrowing. "Come in, then."

After I said a brief "hi" to the Professor and Ororo, I sat down in a vacant chair. The Prof got down to business pretty quick.

"I'm sorry, Rogue, but you've caught me at a bad time; things are rather busy at the moment. What's this about?"

If he didn't have time to chew the fat, neither did I. "The girl that got outta the loony bin... Wanda? She might have been kidnapped by Mystique."

Eyebrows raised. "How did you come to suspect this?" Ororo asked.

"Well, Risty said something about it. Evidently, she was here at the party last Fall, and she stole a bunch of secret files. Risty said Mystique used to look over Wanda's file a lot - like that girl was the cornerstone of her next evil scheme."

"Risty, you say?" the Prof asked, looking strangely uneasy. "Just when was this?"

"She just told me today."

"And... where is she now?"

I rubbed my arm, feeling uncomfortable about how my best friend had left. "Um, I dunno... I don't think she's in her room, though. I'll go look for her if you-"

"No, no, that won't be necessary," he said hastily. "I'll... speak with her later. For the moment, I think we should be using Cerebro to see if we can't locate young miss Maximoff. Hank, if you'll call Jean...?"

"Of course," he said, turning to leave.

"Jean?" I asked, looking between Xavier and Ororo. "Shouldn't you do it, sir?"

"I've been... overexerting myself lately, trying to locate Magnus. I'm afraid I'm not up to another run with Cerebro just now. Besides, this presents a perfect opportunity for Jean to train her telepathic abilities on a larger scale."

"Oh," I said lamely.

"Don't worry, Rogue," he said warmly. "It'll be fine. And I'm sure if Mystique issues a challenge, the X-Men will be able to rise to it."

"Yeah." I tried to sound confident when I said it, and to my surprise, I was. Our abilities and teamwork were really starting to come together, especially the last few weeks - well, except for that incident with Iceman. Then I had a thought; maybe there was a way I could help lift my best friend's flagging spirits.

"Professor?"

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Really? You... you're not having me on?"

"Not that I know of." Scott beamed at her enthusiasm. "But either way, Professor X's word is good enough for me. Just talk to Jean and Storm about a uniform; I'm sure you'll want a custom job that doesn't make you look like a 'wanker', as you put it, A.S.A.P."

Risty was grinning - half-elated, half-aghast. "A-alright, then!" She looked from him to Kurt, Kitty and me. "This- well, I'm- I don't know what to say!"

"I do!" Kitty exclaimed, hugging her. "Welcome to the X-Men!"

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"How do I look?"

It had taken six agonising days for the costume shop to complete the uniform once they got the patterns from Ororo. Though I could tell she had mixed feelings about being a full-fledged team member, our excitement for her proved to be catching - so much that she almost knocked Rahne over as she raced downstairs when the poor girl mentioned a package from Harlequin Custom Garb arrived.

The Lazarus uniform was mostly black spandex, with purple flames leaping down the arms and back; a vertical gray stripe ran down the front and under the matching utility belt, reasserting itself on the pants and disappearing between the thighs. Of course, she couldn't totally escape the blue-and-gold, which were represented as X-insignia on the shoulders and belt buckle. Black gloves and boots with purple buckles completed the ensemble. She'd also taken the liberty of adding a pair of earrings; little silver skulls with amethyst eyes.

"Risty, that's... it's freaking  _awesome_  is what it is!" I meant it; that outfit was wicked-cool. "Love those flames!"

"Thanks," she said, twirling with arms outstretched, cheeks glowing. "Half my idea, half Jean's; she suggested the fire match my hair colour. I wanted a cape, too, but Ororo said that would be impractical, considering my assets rely heavily on quick movement."

"Don't want you tripping yourself up," I laughed. "Anything in those belt pouches yet?"

"Caltrops, shuriken."

"Uh...  _gesundheit?"_

Risty laughed, then emptied the pockets for me. "Throwing stars and extra-pointy jacks, essentially. Logan's suggested I get better acquainted with such things."

"Huh... Teenage Mutant Ninja Brit," I teased.

"Maybe, but I don't fancy talking to any giant rats."

"It  _did_  come!" Kitty shouted as she ran into our room. Evan, Scott and Jean followed her in. "That's  _major_ fab, Risty!"

"Can I get one like that?" Evan asked.

Risty laughed. "You really want all this violet?"

"Nah," he said, walking around her. "My flames'd have to be yellow. But you are definitely workin' the purple, Laz'!"

"Very nice," Scott agreed. "I can see the planning stage was time well spent."

"Such a fuss," she muttered, blushing and averting her eyes.

 _"DUDE!"_ Jubilee said from the doorway. "Ray and Roberto are squaring off near the tennis court!" Then she was off to the stairs.

Evan and Kitty were immediately running for the door. Scott and Jean followed close behind, Jean muttering, "Again?"

"Looks like you're a hit," I said, nudging her with my elbow.

"Yeah..." When her gaze lifted to match mine, my grin slipped a notch. "Rogue, I still don't know about this... are you sure I'm ready?"

"I think you can kick my ass," I laughed, "and I was already on the team! If anybody should back out, it's not you."

"Right..." She took a few quick breaths. "And I've got my heebie-jeebies... and my audio."

"Huh?"

I didn't expect that; I also didn't expect her to open another of the belt pouches and produce an mp3 player.

"Um, Risty... I don't think the others will think of that as much of a weapon in the fight against evil."

"Who said anything about fighting evil with it, luv?" she said, putting in an earphone. "I just wanted to listen to some nice, tranquil Radiohead."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

I sat bolt upright in bed. Was that part of the dream, or...

Straining my ears, I caught the faint sound of a door closing over Kitty's quiet snoring. It obviously wasn't part of the dream.

I walked over to our door, quietly eased it open, and peered out into the hallway. I could just make out a shape moving toward the stairs. Then, there was a loud thump, a muffled groan, and the shape jumped and wobbled about.

"Bloody son of a..."

It was barely a whisper, but it carried like a shout in the silent mansion. The figure hobbled down the stairs and out of sight.

I quickly moved back to my bed and grabbed my sneakers.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Risty, is that you?"

I heard coughing, then some kinda clanging around. As I rounded a corner of the garage, a pungent odor hung in the air... around Risty.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Er," she started, hands behind her back, looking like she'd been caught with them in the cookie jar. Then, in a flashback to that APC concert, I recognized the smell.

_"Risty!"_

"I needed it," she pleaded with me, not even bothering to hide the joint in her hand now. "I... my insides are jelly from being thrust into the mantle of X-Man, and... I've been trying to sleep for hours, and it's not working. I needed to calm myself."

"You shouldn't-"

"Don't preach," she said tersely. Then her features softened. "Not because I don't care what you think, just... I know. And you're right, it's the coward's way, revisiting old stomping grounds in the face of the unfamiliar." Contrary to her words, on she puffed.

"Y- th-" Yeah, I stammered. This was a side of Risty I had suspected back when we first met, but when I never saw it I just figured my early suspicions were wrong. To step outside one night and find out I was right all along was shocking - and disappointing. "What- when- Why are you outside?"

She blinked, not expecting that one. "Er... come again?"

"Why not just do it in your room? Why walk all the way out here?"

"I... well, don't we have smoke alarms?" She dropped her gaze and took another drag.

"Give it."

"No."

"Hand it over!"

"No!"

I ran a hand through my white bangs. "C'mon, Risty, this isn't you! You told me you hated drugs!"

"This isn't 'drugs'," she protested. "This... this is a remnant from a former life." She sighed and dropped the joint on the ground, stomping on it with malice. "Oh, what the hell am I doing? I don't really want this."

"Then why-"

"Old habits die hard, luv."

We both stared up at the streetlight-obscured stars for a few long moments before she spoke again. "I used to be quite a different person before you met me, y'know. You'd hate the old me... you'd recognise her, vaguely, but you'd hate her."

"Oh, come on, I would not."

"Dangerous fun was the name of the game. Cheap thrills and reckless stunts. It was all worth it to spit in my family's over-bearing eye, to put dents in their all-encompassing geas of responsibility and dedication and blah blah blah. I mean, not that I'm a model student now, but in those days..."

"Is that the real reason they sent you over here?"

She smiled weakly, nodding and staring at her boots. "Like I said, they sent me over here to sort out my priorities. They thought some time away from my strung-out friends would place 'getting wasted' a bit lower on the chart."

"Has it?"

Her expression went through a thousand changes in a few seconds. Then she sighed, grinning snarkily. "Yeah. Like you said, I hate drugs, now. They were responsible for me being sent off to this miserable country, weren't they?"

"Hey-!"

"Well, it's what I thought when they told me," she said, shrugging. "I'd never been to America, I didn't know a damn thing about it, other than New York City, Mount Rushmore and Smashing Pumpkins."

"Don't forget hot dogs and apple pie," I added. We laughed, then Risty handed me a blue woolen cap. "What's this?"

"My stash." She couldn't look at me as I unrolled it to stare at the paraphernalia. "Just... just do something with it. I don't trust myself to actually bin the stuff, I've had it far too long."

I pushed the bundle firmly back in her hands. "I'm not gonna do it for you; that's cheating. You can do this yourself, girl."

"You're right." She stared at it for a few more seconds, then put it back in her pocket. "I've got to if I want to let go of pre-Rogue Risty."

My eyebrows arced a bit. Nobody had ever defined the time periods of their life in respect to me before. "You really think of that as-"

Now, most people would probably be scared shitless if they were leaning against a garage door at 2 A.M. and it suddenly started opening. Risty and I were no exception.

_"WHAT IN-"_

_"BLOODY-"_

Logan blinked at us, helmet halfway to his head. "Eh? What're you two doin' out here?"

"Going for a walk," I lied. Risty glanced at me, but I didn't glance back. "We couldn't sleep."

"Yeah, well get back in there." He finished jamming the helmet over his head and lifted the visor so we could still hear him. "School bright 'n' early in the mornin' and all that crud."

"Where are you going?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Huntin'," he said shortly, straddling his motorcycle. "And you two insomniacs are throwin' off the scent."

Risty blanched. "Sorry, Sir."

Then he sniffed, and I knew we were dead. "Speakin' of 'scent'..."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH VIII


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice in this chapter that I borrowed both plot and dialogue heavily from a particular episode of the series. There was no way around it... not unless I wanted to seriously alter history, which I didn't (well, not at this point, anyway). I did try to present it interestingly enough that people who've seen the episode wouldn't be bored out of their minds. Of course, if you haven't seen it... I'm safe!

"It's mine."

"Rogue-"

"Risty came out here to see what I was doing," I cut across her. Notice how smoothly I switched our roles? "She had no part of it."

Logan flashed a lopsided grin at me. "Nice try, kid. 'Cept I can tell the stuff is in Lavender's pocket... and on her breath."

Risty slumped. "Busted..."

"Fork it over, bub."

Reluctantly, guiltily, she handed him the wool cap as if it were one of her limbs.

"Yer lucky," he muttered as he slipped the offending bundle into his tail bag.

"Why's that?" I asked meekly.

"I ain't got time to tell Chuck about this right now, so yer off the hook. Consider tonight your only warning, and don't you forget it, alright? Like we don't have enough problems without messin' around with this shit." Catching the nervous looks on our faces, he sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna turn it in to the cops or nothin'; I ain't a narc. I'll... toss in it a river or somethin'."

"I'm sorry, sir," Risty said earnestly. "I'll stay clean, truly."

"You do that."

We nodded vigorously as he revved his bike, then waved until he was beyond the gate and our line of sight.

"You didn't have to do that," she whispered.

"Hey, you just made X-Man. I don't want anything wreckin' that for ya."

"Cheers, Rogue... really." She hugged me warmly. "I've never had anybody stick their neck out for me like that."

I laughed quietly. "Just follow Logan's advice for me, okay?"

Her laugh echoed mine as we turned to go back inside. "Of course. Wouldn't know where to get any, for one thing; I've had that bit since England."

"Doesn't that stuff get... stale, or something?"

"Very much so." Her tongue hung out slightly. "That was the worst Mary Jane I've ever encountered!"

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Even though news usually travels fast at the Xavier Institute, somehow nobody found out about Risty's little spill off the wagon, and that suited us just fine.

Part of the reason for that was the fact that Logan didn't come back from his "hunt". That was nothing to worry about, though; he was prone to disappear for days, sometimes weeks, to take care of personal business... which usually involved beating some bad guy to a pulp. The Professor usually seemed to know what he was up to, but I guess it was too private to share with the rest of us.

Life went on peacefully for a while. Kurt and Kitty were involved in some kinda school project together, and spent long hours in the library reading and making charts. Evan spent most afternoons skating around town with some non-mutant friends. Scott and Jean took over the drilling in Logan's absence - which was great, since as tough as Scott could be, Logan was a slavedriver.

In addition to that, Risty and I started sparring once a day, and she always schooled me. I tried not to be frustrated or jealous of her expertise - and sometimes failed - but I realized it had been stuck in her brain against her will, and she was just trying to make lemonade out of her bitter experiences. I was beginning to catch up to her, though; I mean, she was kinda training me, so of course I'd start picking up some of her skills. Risty looked forward to it; she thought there was nothing better than the two of us squaring off for a healthy round in the dojo. Well, except for the less-exhausting Tekken...

About a week after the pot incident, we were all spending a rare night together in the kitchen; Kurt and Jean were doing the dishes, Evan was all up in his GameBoy, Kitty was finishing off an apple (and watching Evan with passing interest), and Scott, Risty and I were at the table, knee-deep in homework. It would've been a nice, quiet evening...

"Everyone," Xavier said as he wheeled in, "I need your attention."

Scott put down his pencil. "What's up, Professor?"

"Cerebro has discovered Wanda's location," he continued, sharp eyes moving between us. "She's joined the Brotherhood boys. I've also been able to track their movements; right now, they're in the Bayville Mall."

Evan scoffed. "So? Maybe there's a sale on 'I'm With Stupid' shirts." We all laughed appreciatively, but the Prof was less than amused.

"I doubt it, as the Mall's been closed for hours. I'd like you all to suit up and find out what they're doing there."

"We're on it," Scott said as he stood. "And don't worry, Professor; if the Loserhood is up to something, we'll head 'em off."

"And vithout breaking a sweat!" Kurt crowed as we headed for the door, high-fiving Scott and whooping.

As we passed the Professor, I noticed he was giving Risty a piercing stare - more piercing than usual, even. I guess she noticed, too.

"He doesn't think I can do this," she whispered shakily when we reached the hallway. "He thinks I'll be rubbish out there. Who can blame him?"

"Hogwash," I soothed as we reached the elevator. "He's just concerned; it's your first night 'on the job', after all. I'm sure you'll be fine."

There was no way I could tell her the truth - that I was just as nervous about it as she was.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Hey, Lazarus?"

"Yes?" She was unbuckling and rebuckling her gloves nervously. It was almost cute...

Scott paused as he devoted his concentration to guiding the X-Van around a corner, then glanced up at her again in the rearview mirror. "I hate to bring up more bad memories, but do you remember anything else about this Wanda?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well," Jean continued for him, "her powers, or weaknesses. If she really did join the Brotherhood, we'll need to know what we're up against."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Evan hissed. "I mean... the Prof. Shouldn't he have briefed us a little more thoroughly? We're walking into a gunfight without knowing what kinda guns they have."

"Or how many," I muttered.

"You're right," Scott said quietly. "It is weird."

"I'm sorry I can't be of much use," Risty spoke up at last, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I do remember one thing... she's powerful. Really powerful."

"Can you help us out a little more than that?" Kitty asked.

Her lips curved into a wry smile. "Let's just say you tend to receive some potent abilities when you're Magneto's offspring."

A collective  _"WHAT?"_  went up.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

All was silent in the Bayville Galleria parking lot. Not a car was in sight (save the X-Van, now far behind us), and the lampposts were all off by now. Scott motioned Kitty and Kurt forward as we approached the main entrance; they quickly made use of their abilities to enter, then Kitty unlocked the door for the rest of us.

"Man," Evan breathed, "this place sure looks different at night."

"Yeah." Kitty rubbed her arm, looking around at the unfamiliar shadows in such a familiar place. "This'll be the first time here that I didn't buy a pair of shoes."

Cyclops, ever the fearless leader, took a quick look around as we approached a lone grand piano set up for the occasional performance. When nothing out of the ordinary presented itself, he stopped. "Alright, let's split up. Jean, Spyke and I will take the first floor; the rest of you, check out the balconies." He started to move off, then paused. "Rogue?"

"Yessir!" I barked, saluting.

He sighed, then coughed. "Look, just... stick with Lazarus. It's not a good idea to send a new recruit into battle by herself."

I nodded, then followed said rookie up the stairs.

"He has such effervescent confidence in me," she whispered flatly.

"Oh, stop. He just wants to ease you into the whole crimefighting thing."

_"WAYYYAAAAAH!"_

We whirled around, ready for action, but nobody was there.

"That was Kitty, right?" Risty breathed, tensing visibly.

"I think so..." I started moving forward, but before we reached the source of the cry, we heard another from below us.

"Back off, Blob!"

"Spyke!" Kitty shouted. While we stood there, torn between assisting two friends in two directions, they were both in danger.

"Maybe we should divide," Risty hissed quickly. "One help each."

"Cyclops said I-"

"Forget Cyclops! This is war, we can't-"

Kitty flew around the corner, barreling through us (literally) and toward the stairs. "I'm coming, Spyke!"

By the time the three of us arrived at Gunther's Radio Shack, Evan was just exiting the store, having taken care of Fred Dukes. The flabby, hulking moron was feeling his way down the aisles, obviously blinded.

"What'd you do to him?" Kitty breathed.

"Blew up a few TVs." Spyke shrugged and gestured to several sets with projectile spikes poking out from broken screens; sparks were flying everywhere. "Too easy."

Before any of us could tell Evan not to be so cocky (or destructive), we felt the mall trembling under our feet.

"Dammit, Lance!" Kitty cursed. "Let's go!"

As we reached the second floor again, we jumped back; a bolt of ruby-hued energy lanced up and through the roof, sending a shower of tiny debris onto Jean's head. She was too busy to notice this, her attention fixed on turning back Lance's onslaught of boulders.

"Scott..." Kitty whispered.

The blame for the new skylight rested on Toad's slimy shoulders; he'd pilfered Cyclops' visor, and was now busy hopping around, taunting the effectively-blind mutant.

"Aw, c'mon, Summers," he goaded. "Open your eyes! What's the matter, afraid you'll bring down the whole mall?"

"Keep talking and I'll look right at you, bugbreath!" Cyclops growled, swinging wildly.

"Whoops, missed me," he laughed as he landed - three feet from me. I'm sure Risty was grinning as I ran forward, yanking off my glove. Toad never saw me coming: he just fell backward, out cold. Of course, I grabbed the visor from his lifeless hand first.

A quick second was all I needed to mull over Toad's mutant abilities (and hold my lunch down from some of his disgusting memories). Then I was in the air, confident in my suddenly-powerful leg muscles and amphibious reflexes.

 _"Rogue-"_  I heard from behind me, and laughed. Didn't they know I'd been hopping around like this all my life? But I had learned to suppress thoughts like this; it wasn't  _my_  life. I was just borrowing a corner of it.

"Think you dropped this," I said to Scott as I deftly landed next to him, holding the visor in front of his eyes.

"Thanks," he panted, slipping it on quickly. He barely had time to smile at me before Blob, having fought off all the pretty colours, was charging him. Of course, back in control of his powers, Scott immediately fired off a devastating optic blast into his midsection, sending the massive thug through the air and into a fountain... which deposited all the water inside on the floor around it.

The others joined us downstairs as we regrouped near the empty fountain, a little winded but pleased with how the battle was going. There turned out to be no time for pats on backs.

"I thought this place was closed," I whispered.

"It is," Kurt replied.

"Then why is the escalator running?"

A figure was on the top of the moving steps, slowly being carried down toward us. She wore a deep red trenchcoat with brighter red spandex underneath that looked a little worse for wear. Fingerless gloves stretched back past her elbows, and steel graced her black boots. Ankhs were everywhere. And, almost in desperation to add more red, her hair was dyed crimson on the back and sides. The spookiest part about her was her eyes, and the anger - madness - that shone in them.

"Wanda," Risty breathed.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

Finally...

Well, perhaps I shouldn't have been thinking that, but... well, Mystique's memories dictated I do so. She'd been so looking forward to meeting her, and I had trouble suppressing that wicked glee that wasn't mine.

"Uh-oh," Evan said, backing off a step. "Bad vibe."

One wave of Wanda's hands set lights all around us exploding... and the piano careening toward Cyclops. In the same instant I watched his fingers move to the side of his visor, I remembered the nature of Wanda Maximoff's power from her dossier.

"Don't!" I shouted. "She-"

Cyclops' optic blast curved away from where he was aiming (the piano) and randomly destroyed a segment of balcony railing. The lot of us were now busy diving out of the way of the hurtling instrument, and I forgot all about my newly-recalled information.

That wasn't the end of Cyclops's eye trouble; his out-of-control beams sent Evan through the front windows of Mort's Sports, sliced off a stairway landing (which forced Jean to dive out of the way), and nearly caught me in the bum.

"Scott," Jean shouted from where she was righting herself, "what are you  _doing?"_

"I- I don't know!" He was panicking, and all the while the building was suffering. "I can't control it - I can't close my eyes!"

Jean looked between him and Wanda, and for an instant, seemed to understand. My hope of this was extinguished when she tried to lift the witch skyward with her telekinesis. With deceptive ease, Wanda reflected attack on attacker, sending Jean tumbling through the air; Kurt appeared behind her just in time to prevent any broken bones.

"This is crazy," Rogue wheezed from my left. "Risty, let's get out of-"

"Let's charge her."

_"WHAT?"_

"We have to do  _something_ ," I wailed. "Our mates are getting destroyed out-"

We both abandoned that discussion to watch Evan barrel toward her on his skateboard, launching a dozen bone-spikes from his arm. Our opponent sent those back at him as carelessly as she tossed Jean away, and Spyke found himself diving and rolling to avoid gaining a new orifice.

Kitty began to rise from the floor behind Wanda, intent on a surprise attack. When she suddenly halted at hip-depth, she screamed, "Help! I can't move!"

"Don't vorry," Kurt shouted, running forward, "I gotcha!" The fuzzy elf grabbed her and teleported... somewhere. Where had they gone?

"That's it," I growled. "She's mine!"

 _"Lazarus!"_ Rogue shouted. I didn't listen.

Using my "heebie-jeebies" was out of the question; the last thing I needed was to experience the upset stomach intended for my target. That left less-sensational methods. Swiftly, I sprinted forward, silently withdrawing a shuriken from a belt pouch. I knew what was going to happen, but I felt confident in my ability to dodge, and hoped that it would throw the disturbed girl off enough to allow me an opening.

The metallic star sailed true, of course. Inches from Wanda's shoulder, it turned and came straight back at me... of course. I deftly rolled to the right, feeling it graze my left cheek, but Mystique's battle senses (and my own rapidly-growing ones) kept me from worrying about that at the moment. I lunged toward the startled Wanda and slammed my fist into her face.

Or would have, had I not tripped over my own foot. I guess her power of hexing things to turn against her victims extends to running across the room, as well, eh?

As I struggled to pick myself up, I noticed her feet were inches from my nose. I smiled, helplessly looking up into her coldly-burning eyes.

"Er... Nice boots, luv."

Why I actually entertained the notion that she might not kick me in the face is beyond my comprehension. Silly me!

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

"We didn't have a choice, Scott," Jean was saying. "She was too much for us."

Risty limped along at my side, blood trailing from the corner of her mouth and the cut on her cheek - not to mention the shiner her right eye was still working on. She looked like hell, alright. Not that any of the rest of us were much better; Jean and Scott were filthy, I had a few cuts and bruises from avoiding Wanda's blasts (and a horrible phlegmmy feeling in my throat as a reminder of stealing Toad's powers), Kurt and Kitty were picking leaves out of their hair (when Kurt rescued her from the vile floor, they'd landed in a tree outside), and Evan was bemoaning what was left of his skateboard.

We lost. How could we lose? We're the X-Men! None of us were too thrilled to follow Jean's retreat order... but when Wanda started making everything in sight explode or crumble, we all knew it was the only option. All of us but Scott.

"Don't be too hard on yourselves," the Professor said as he wheeled up from an idling limousine; I could just make out Ororo at the wheel. "If it's anyone's fault... it's mine. I should have been training you on how to handle someone like Wanda."

Scott barely glanced at him. At first, I thought he was headed for the van, but he passed right by it. He was going to walk home in shame. Wordlessly, the rest of us followed.

"You know, handling defeat is as much a mark of your character as coming home the victor," the Prof went on. "And, from what I see, this was a lesson apparently much-needed."

Xavier's less-than-comforting sentiment echoed through our minds as we trudged the miles back to the mansion.  _Defeat._  Seven X-Men, well-oiled machines of justice, and we'd had our asses handed to us by one damn basket case with an ankh fetish. Exhaustion from a post-battle hike didn't seem like the biggest of our problems.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH IX


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though I've written many chapters before and since this one (that you will see soon enough!), Ten remains a special favourite. Everything just sort've fell into place, and came out just the way I'd envisioned it. I can only hope you'll feel half as close to it as I do.

"Guess nobody else could sleep."

Scott, Risty, Kurt, Jean and Evan looked up glumly as Kitty and I entered the kitchen. Despite the bags under our eyes and the bandages on our wounds, none of us were inclined to rest much that night. Personally, I'd rather have gone back to the mall and given it another shot, but I knew that wasn't a bright idea.

"Not a wink, luv," Risty mumbled, readjusting the bag of frozen peas she'd been holding against her eye.

"This is retarded," Kitty spat as she fixed herself a glass of water. "We were so useless!"

Evan tossed an empty soda can at the recycle bin - and missed. "Tell us something we don't know."

"Scott was just saying we should double our daily sessions," Jean recapped for the two of us. "We can't suffer another defeat like that."

Kurt chuckled hollowly. "No kidding."

"There's gotta be a way," I said as I sat down at the table next to Risty. "Something we can do to guard against that witchcraft of hers."

"Jean," Scott said slowly, sounding the teeniest bit less bitter. "The Professor's psychic blasts worked against Juggernaut. It's a long shot, but maybe that's the answer here."

"I don't know how to do those, yet."

"No time like the present."

She considered that, then nodded quietly, staring at her hands again. "I'll ask him in the morning."

"Most of us are going to be totally useless against her... or worse." It was obvious he was mainly talking about himself. "From Risty's valiant effort, we now know she can even foul up purely physical attacks." He stopped, mouth halfway between forming a word, then changed direction. "Wait..."

"What is it, Scott?" Kitty asked.

"The answer." He smiled weakly, then laughed, running a hand through his brown hair. "It's Rogue."

A second or two of silence lapsed.

"Of course," Jean breathed, her eyes wide with understanding - and excitement.

"Ya think?" I asked meekly. "I mean... what if she can turn my energy drain around, too?"

By now, Scott was grinning. "What if she can't? Look at the facts. Wanda reflects attacks back on attacker; physical, energy, and even more sophisticated stuff like teleportation and corporeal intangibility. But your osmosis isn't an attack so much as a... transference. Besides, if she doesn't know you're there..."

"If you can sneak up behind her," Kitty whispered, "grab her by the chin, maybe?"

"Once your skin touches hers, I'll bet there's nothing she can do to stop it." Scott leaned back in his chair, folding his arms and beaming like he'd just been handed the keys to the pearly gates.

"The rest of us can be decoys," Evan put in. "It won't be my proudest moment as an X-Man, but if it works..."

"She'll have to sneak up on Wanda purely by stealth." Risty flipped the bag over. "No aid from Kurt or Kitty; it'll just go wonky again."

"I don't vant to strand us at the North Pole," Kurt laughed.

The door swung open and Ororo walked in, eyebrow raised at the laughing faces. "What's this? Couldn't put off the commiserating until tomorrow?"

"It's not a pity party, Auntie O," Evan said.

"Oh?"

Scott's smile turned a bit wryer. "More like... impromptu strategizing."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Over the next three days, the X-Men spent almost every waking hour we weren't at school in the Danger Room. Normally, it would've been a complete nightmare, but we all knew it was necessary if we wanted a shot at anything other than losing next time. Scott and Beast even cooked up a new simulation named "Witch Hunt", for obvious reasons.

We kept at it, even when the Professor took Jean out of the sessions to help him with Cerebro on the third day. When we all felt like we couldn't throw another punch, we trained more. When we  _really_  couldn't move, Scott pushed himself further. When  _HE_  couldn't move, the six of us finally retired to the kitchen for some Red Bulls and a few precious minutes of breathing.

"Hi, guys," Jean said glumly as she joined us an hour later. We were all still too sweaty and exhausted to do more than blink, so she continued, "Sorry I couldn't be there."

"Oh yeah," Evan panted. "You... missed all the... fun."

She smiled, then cleared her throat as she sat down. "I've been gone this long because... we can't locate Wolverine."

 _"What?"_  I instantly regretted doing that - my lungs protested in the form of a hacking fit.

"He was tracking Sabretooth... um, again. Now we can't find either of them."

Scott set his can down. "Magneto."

"Maybe; that's what the Professor thinks, anyway. He sent Beast and Storm out to case their last known location; who knows, maybe a clue will turn-"

"Let's get back in there."

"Are you  _nuts?"_  Kurt groaned. "Sure, ve must strengthen our combat ability, but I'm gonna croak if I don't get some downtime!"

Scott stood up, banging the table. "He got Logan, dammit! We've gotta be ready for a rescue op when we discover his location!"

"But Logan's a human tank," Kitty said in a small voice. "If he got caught..."

None of us needed to hear the rest of that as we glanced at each other. Jaw set, I followed the rest of my determined comrades away from the kitchen and toward more rigorous exercises.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"It's getting better."

Risty laughed. "No, it's not. I still look like Petey from the Little Rascals."

My eyebrows knitted of their own accord. "Who?"

"Nevermind." She went back to poking at the fading darkness around her eye in the bathroom mirror. "I've had worse."

"Really?"

"Of course. I was an uncontrollable terror as a child. Three broken bones, you know." Her smile slipped at that point. "I'd show you the scars, but... they're not there anymore."

"Huh? Why not?"

She leaned against the sink, staring at her socks. "When Mystique and I experienced our schism... I regained my body. But it's not really the same body I had before. Things are different than I remember from before we fused... well, the things I can remember."

"How different is it?"

There was an old fear in her smile, now; something that still haunted her. "When I woke up in the ditch, something kept interfering with my vision. I was so confused and disoriented that it took me about an hour to realize..."

"Realize what?"

"I had  _hair,_  Rogue. Loads of it. It was down past my shoulderblades." She shook slightly. "I hadn't grown my hair that long in five years, maybe more."

"That doesn't make any sense. Shouldn't your hair have been the same length as when you two combined?"

"Tell that to the scientists who drafted my body. That's just the problem; they got my basic genetic code, but didn't incorporate the changes my body had undergone since birth well enough. My face, height, weight, eye colour... those were fine for the most part. Even my memories were nearly intact. But they didn't have the time to bother about nuances... like scars."

"'Cause Mystique just wanted you outta there."

"Right in one."

A question flashed through my mind; it's really weird that I never thought to ask her before. "Risty... what colour  _is_  your hair?"

"Hmm?"

"Y'know... naturally."

If anything, she looked even more beleaguered when I asked that. "It used to be a sort've light brown. Sandy, some would say."

"Wait, wait, what's this 'used to be' stuff?"

"Just as I said." Frustration tinged her words. "The gits couldn't pinpoint it... bits of my genetic data had begun to break down from the long months swimming around in Mystique's body. Nuances."

She reached up and pulled a strand down in front of her eyes, staring at it intently. "Mystique tried fishing it out of my memories, but I'd locked her out; I was gaining more and more control. That bitch was so fed up and anxious to be rid of me that she just told her lackeys what colour it was when she stole my car. They insisted they could probably pinpoint it if they had another week, but... patience is not one of her virtues. Besides, this made for a kind of 'fun' project for them."

That was so crazy and hard to believe, but Risty was dead serious. "So..."

"It's purple, now." She yanked the strand out at the root with a wince, handing it to me. All doubts vanished - not even a millimetre of natural brown at the root.

_"Wicked."_

She smiled slightly. "Disturbing and odd... but no, I suppose it's not that worst thing in the world. I probably would've continued dyeing it well into my thirties, anyway."

From a distance, I heard a laugh escape my throat. "Peas in a pod."

"What's that?"

"Mine, too." I tugged at my white forelock. "I've had this colourless patch in the front for as long as I can remember."

Her head cocked to the side. "Oh yeah... I'd forgotten."

"Yeah... what?" I looked up at her. "Wait, how'd you know about that?"

"You've told me before, haven't you?"

"No... no, I don't think so."

"Yes you did, you said it was be- because..." Hazel eyes dropped to the tile as she trailed off. Several seconds crept by.

"Risty?"

"G'night." The look on her face as she pushed past me burned into my mind. Why was she so upset about something like hair?

As I squeezed toothpaste onto my brush, my brain caught up. Obviously, Mystique had all the files on us X-Men; she probably knew why my bangs weren't auburn like the rest of my hair, and therefore, so did Risty. She was probably just tired of knowing things she shouldn't, and missing things she should.

There was nothing I could do but get on with my bedtime rituals. I wanted to chase after her and do something to help, but what? Besides, I felt like I'd been doing so much of that lately that she was probably getting sick of me sticking my nose in. I'd talk to her in the morning.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

A key turning in a lock.

The noise wasn't terribly evident to me; personally, I'd never found any reason for remembering and recognizing it. However, the damnable harlot's life had been full of suspicion and paranoia. I realized the sound was close enough to be from my own bedroom door; that put me on full alert, and I snaked one hand under my pillow. Really, I suppose it was a good thing that the upsetting turn in my bathroom conversation had made sleep a fantasy for me that night.

The dim moonlight from my window outlined a figure - possibly a woman, from the curve of the hips and hair length. Making sure my eyes were open the barest amount, so as to maintain the illusion of slumber, I forced my breathing to remain slow and heavy. When the figure moved to my bedside, I caught the glint of steel in the moon. The hand under my pillow tensed.

An instant before the blade pierced my racing heart, the hand still lying on my stomach grasped her wrist as I lunged forward, the  _kunai_  I'd been clutching for insurance snaking for her throat.

The two of us landed on the floor, and I saw the face of my best friend.

"No," I squeaked in horror.

"I hate you," she hissed. "You gotta go."

_"NO!"_

Sensing my guard crumbling, she kicked me to the other side of my chambers and leapt to her feet. In one swift motion, her knife flew, sought my chest.

Initial shock had faded enough to allow instinct to save my life. Rolling to the side, I was standing again, suddenly finding I had the upperhand; my enemy was unarmed.

"What are you  _doing?"_  I screamed.

"You gotta die, Risty! You're stealing all my friends from me! I hate your freaking  _guts!"_

I could do nothing. Words wouldn't come. Bloody Miss Raven's inbred combat skills told me I should feint left, then spin and plunge the kunai into her ribcage, but I couldn't; it was Rogue. Scrambling to make a difference, I sent a potent wave of empathic fear and uneasiness at my former best friend. Maybe I could get her to give up...

Her reaction only lasted for a split second; Rogue stiffened, glanced over her shoulder, then glared at me again, anger renewed and amplified.

My enemy's lapse in concentration was all I'd needed.

"Why, hello," I spoke in a low voice, grinning darkly. "Miss me that much, luv? It has been ever so long since we last... shared our thoughts."

Rogue's eyes were green... not yellow.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

I was out of bed the moment as I heard the scream. Kitty sat upright as I flew across the room and threw open the door; it barely registered that she came running on my heels.

Another scream. "Risty!" Barely able to hold my emotions in check, I fought the urge to run to her long enough to turn to the wall beside me, flip aside the dummy thermostat and punch a button triggering the alarm. Doors flew open all around me as I closed the distance to Risty's room, confused students looking around frantically. A few steps from my destination, I heard glass shattering.

 _'Dear God,'_  I thought,  _'what's going on?'_

The first thing I noticed from the open doorway was the broken window. After that, droplets of murky liquid on the carpet.

"Holy shit," Kitty whispered, hands over her mouth.

"No," I breathed. We were too late; Risty was wounded, out the window, gone. Had the demons in her head finally caught up to her?

Then she stepped out from behind the door, and my heart jumped into my larynx.  _Alive._  One of her sleeves was ripped, and one hand was grasping a knife, quietly dripping the same dark liquid. "Rogue..."

More details presented themselves. Sheets strewn everywhere. Another knife embedded in the wall. A rip in the pillow, spilling feathers onto the floor. Sweat mixing with tears on her cheeks.

"Wh-what happened?" I croaked. "Are... are you okay?"

Her answer was to drop the blade and grab me, squeezing so tight I thought my spine would snap, weeping freely on my shoulder.

Scott and Ororo looked the room over. Evan, Kurt and Beast did a sweep of the grounds. Unable to get Risty to do anything but hold onto me and sob, Jean was reluctantly persuaded by the others to probe her mind. When she did, Jean started crying, too. It took a while, but she related the story mentally to us one at a time, not wanting to repeat it aloud in front of Risty.

"Good gracious," Xavier gasped, arriving at last. "I had hoped I'd misheard Jean's thoughts."

"Where've you been?" Ororo asked, an edge of concern in her voice. "You weren't attacked as well?"

"No," he said, frustration flashing across his features. "I was having some trouble with my wheelchair. But nevermind that, now." He rolled over to us quickly. "Are you going to be alright?"

When Risty didn't answer within a few more seconds, he sighed and nodded solemnly, his gaze moving to me. "Take her to the spare bedroom at the end of your hallway. It is unlikely that she'll sleep tonight, but..."

"Yeah." I gently pulled at her shoulder. Understandably, she picked up her kunai before allowing me to guide her through the halls.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Here we are," I said brightly. "Home sweet temporary home."

The room was pretty much like all the other rooms were before they had tenants: two beds with featureless blue sheets, fine oak dressers and end tables, some painting of fruit hanging on a wall, a closet. I moved Risty to a bed and she sat down, dropping the knife onto the nightstand.

"I... I know what happened," I began uneasily. What a horrible experience - and that hussy had the nerve to impersonate me! No wonder the poor girl was in shock. "But... she's gone, you drove her off! So, listen... try to get some sleep, okay? It'll be fine, now. I'm a few doors down if you need me."

I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to leave. A hand clamped on my wrist.

"Don't go," she whispered.

She didn't need to say anymore; nobody would want to be alone after something like that. When I moved toward the other bed, she stopped me again.

"Please?"

I frowned at the rivulets still flowing down her cheeks. "It's only a couple of feet, Risty. I promise I'm not gonna get up in the middle of the-"

"I need you near me, please... just for tonight. While I know you're- I f-feel so- I-"

"Shh." The bleakness and humiliation in her voice was killing me; she didn't want to be a burden, but if I left her now, she couldn't be sure it was really me next time. Mystique couldn't end my best friend's life, so she was trying to taint anything she cared about; I wouldn't let that happen. "I'm not going anywhere."

The first few minutes were a period of adjustment; those beds aren't made to hold two people. Limbs kept getting in the way, and when Risty's elbow ended up in my armpit, we both laughed. Eventually, we settled into a fairly comfortable position, and soon Risty was sound asleep, cheeks still damp and breathing slightly troubled. Though I thought it was impossible after such a horrific night, I'd almost drifted off myself when she rolled over and snuggled against me.

For a moment, I didn't know what to do. Was this weird? I'd never really done the whole slumber party thing - for the health and safety of others. When I tried to ease her head back onto the pillow, her grip tightened, and a small, plaintive cry issued from her throat. Maybe I was a pushover, but after that, I hugged back.

Why did I feel so guilty? Because I enjoyed the closeness? Because it was a byproduct of my best friend's misery? Despite the guilt, I did enjoy it. I'd never been able to embrace anyone without being careful - making sure no patches of skin touched - and usually anyone who let me hug them at all was quick to let go. I'd never felt the steady pulsating of someone else's heart so close to mine, or a warm, soft cheek on my collarbone. It was scary admitting it, and I felt like I was taking advantage... but it was my deepest, most desperate dream come true.

"I know you didn't do it on purpose," I whispered, stroking her hair and trying not to cry, "but this is the best gift anyone's ever given me."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH X


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another where I plagiar- err, borrow quite a bit of dialogue and plot from the series. I don't particularly feel good about it, but it would be sacrilege to do otherwise. SACRILEGE, I TELL YOU!

So cold... why was I so cold? And a wetness on my cheek...

My eyes met gummy resistance when they tried to open. Cold? Not really; I could feel the sun on my eyelids from the window. But I knew why I felt a chill; I reached out and found no one. Panic hit me. Where  _was_  she? Wide awake, I sat up too fast. Even before my head stopped swimming, I looked around wildly for some clue, anything, a reason I was alone... and found I wasn't.

Risty was sitting on the other bed, legs dangling off the side, staring at her own feet - or through them. I reckon she'd been there for quite a spell. The rip in her sleeve was larger now, and her eye still sported a faint half-moon of blue. When she noticed my movement, she stood nervously, swallowing to wet her parched whistle.

"G-good morning, Rogue."

"Mmh... G'mornin', Laz'."

Not even a smile. "I... I'm sorry."

"Hnng?" I cleared my throat and rubbed an eye. "What for?"

She turned away to face the window instead of me. "How selfish I was last night. Asking you to stay with me... I'm sure that was a bit weird for you." She laughed shakily. "I almost had a heart attack when I woke up next to you; for a moment there, I thought we'd had a few too many Heinekens or-"

"Thank you."

"Eh?" She looked up, almost confused enough to forget about being embarrassed. "Whatever for?"

 _'Stop blushing, dammit!'_  I scolded myself. "I've never been able to just...  _hold_  someone like that. And, well... thanks." There was so much more I wanted to say about it, but the words wouldn't come, regardless of whether or not I thought I could get them out. I waited for her response for a while, but when her mouth only twitched wordlessly, I moved on. "And, uh, you don't need to apologize. You had a rough night, and needed some company. You'd have done the same for me."

Her eyes shone as she looked at me steadily, and I could hear the lump in her throat when she spoke. "In a blink, luv." It was her turn to flush scarlet as she wiped a tear away. "Oh, and sorry 'bout that love bite."

"What-" I reached up to my cheek. " _That's_  what this is?"

"I woke up like that," she continued quickly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Using your face for a dummy, I guess."

I blinked and rubbed what I now knew was a hickey off of my cheek (though it was probably still as red as my entire face). "Weird..."

"You see? It  _was_  weird." She sighed and stood at the window, gazing down into the lush lawns below. "Why must I be such a soppy milquetoast? Turning you into my teddy bear like I've done was deplorable and self-indulgent. What's it matter if I've all the fighting prowess in the world if I still act like an overlarge baby?"

"Hey, none o' that, Risty. Nobody blames you... 'specially not myself. Like I said, you had a rough night." Mentally kicking myself for saying "weird", I crossed the room and put an arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, let's go get some breakfast."

"You're sure you don't mind the saliva?"

"No big thing," I laughed – on the outside. Inside, I was trying to shut off the valve to my sweat glands so she wouldn't figure out how freaked I was. We'd been through a lot crazier stuff than that, though, so I could hitch a brave face over my scared one for a while. "Heck, what's a hickey between friends? At least now you can tell everyone you kissed the Rogue and lived to tell about it."

Giggling quietly, she offered me her arm. "To breakfast, my darling?"

I took it. "To breakfast!"

Elbows locked, we gallantly descended to the dining room together.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

I glanced around to make sure nobody was paying us any attention, then turned back to Risty and Kitty. "So, are you nervous?"

Risty had been staring at the last traces of her black eye in a makeup mirror. "What's that?"

"This afternoon's training session." I sat down on the bleachers. "The Professor's supposed to be putting us through it."

"So?" Kitty said.

"Well, Jean says he's all disgruntled about Wolverine going missing. He's probably gonna run us ragged."

"Oh, come on," Risty laughed. "I reckon he just wants to see where we stand."

"You're not nervous at all?"

"Excited is the word." Risty grinned as she stashed the mirror. "I'll get to showcase my improvement!"

"That makes one of us."

Her grin faded. "What's the matter?"

"Well, you're doing really great, but... I'm just limping along behind you. I'm afraid he'll bump me off the team compared to you."

"It'll be groovy, luv," she soothed, placing a hand on my leg. "Nobody's going to let you skive just because I'm 'the best', as you seem to think. You'll have to do better than that."

"Yeah, Rogue," Kitty said brightly, leaning back. "We're a team; he's not gonna kick you out. Besides, you're a better hand-to-hand fighter than I am, so even if you went, I'd probably go first."

I sighed, taking a swig from my water bottle. "Yeah, well, I hope he's not gonna add to our already-cramped schedule."

The stupid cheerleaders started to whip the pep assembly into a frenzy, drowning out Kitty's next comment... but I saw her finger pointing to her own cheek with a questioning look in her eyes. I decided to pretend I couldn't get what she was hinting at, but promised myself I'd try another layer of foundation when I had a chance. Wasn't the hickey ever gonna fade?

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Well, Risty was way off.

"Argh," I grumbled as I slunk into the hallway from the Danger Room, covered in orange paint. "That is  _so_  lame." Sunspot nodded his assent as I collapsed next to Berserker. "Come on, how does he expect us to survive in a session like that?"

"Yeah, well at least you lasted longer than we did." Bobby pounded a fist into his knee. "And I was just gettin' my frost up!"

"Serves you right," Ray laughed over an explosion from within the Room From Hell. "I seem to remember you got Rogue picked off a couple weeks back."

"Shut up."

I grinned at Ray; he just laughed harder. A few seconds later, Kurt was suddenly standing in our midst, a large paint splat marring the chest of his uniform.

"Dammit!" he growled, kicking the wall. "It's a Holocaust in there!"

That was the word for it, alright. What the hell was the Prof's deal?

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"What happened?"

Amara brushed a lock of her dark hair from her eyes as she answered Cyclops. "It- it plastered Nightcrawler!"

"Man," Spyke hissed, looking around the rocky crevasse we were trapped in frantically, "how can one drone tag so many kids?"

"Magma," Cyclops barked, "what about the objective?"

"Um..." She stood, pointing hesitantly. "About... thirty-six kilometers."

My eyebrow hiked a bit. "Twenty-two miles? You're sure?"

The pitiable Nova Roman slapped her head. "Meters! I meant meters! Oh, I  _hate_  the metric system." She folded her arms and prepared for a good sulk, but it proved to be a luxury we couldn't afford; Cyclops yanked her out of the way just before a barrage of paintballs eliminated her. Jean and Kitty's eyes widened with fear, Amara covered hers, and Scott's teeth ground together. Spyke and I leapt underneath a small ledge, watching the levitating pod advance on our comrades.

"This is too intense," he panted.

"I concur." It wasn't going nearly as well as I'd been hoping. This new simulation wasn't giving an inch, and it was all we could do to stay alive - a task that had proven a bit too much for the X-Men, by and large. My golden opportunity to prove myself a valuable, capable team member, and I was crouching under a rock like a giant purple cockroach! The fact that I fared no worse than my teammates was little consolation.

I withdrew a shuriken while Evan prepared to fire a bonespike at the drone, but there was no longer reason - Cyke had blown it to kingdom come with a single crimson blast.

"Thanks, Scott," Magma gasped, glancing at the paint splat on the rock face a hair's breadth above her.

"You're stalling, Cyclops!" The lot of us glanced up, even though we knew it was Xavier on the intercom. "Magneto won't be sitting around, waiting for you to decide on tactics. Make a move, or relinquish command to Jean!"

"What now, fearless leader?" I asked quietly. The world-weary boy cast around for a few moments as if some hidden playbook would thrust itself at him before he sighed, setting his jaw.

"Okay. We're gonna rush him."

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

"You  _RUSHED HIM?_  Like you were going to take him by  _surprise?"_

Nightcrawler, Spyke, Shadowcat, Jean, Lazarus and I dejectedly stood behind Cyclops, whom was being glared down by a not-so-cheerful Professor Xavier. Our team leader held out his hands helplessly. "Professor, I-"

"Magneto is always two steps ahead, Scott," he raged, shaking his finger. "You'll never take him by surprise -  _ever!"_

Cyclops's eyebrow shot up... along with his volume. "Excuse me, Professor, but  _what_  is goin'  _ON?_  You've  _never_  driven us this hard."

The Professor turned away, as if he was ashamed. "I had to see. I had to confirm my fears." Sighing with scarcely-hidden revulsion, he turned back. "It's clear that none of you are ready to face Magneto."

Scott folded his arms. "I disagree."

"Do you?" I almost yelped when he got up in Scott's face. "You couldn't even take care of the Brotherhood!"

Ouch. I probably don't have to tell you, but that was a low blow if I ever saw - or felt - one. Scott wasn't the only X-Man feeling angry and humiliated, now.

Xavier turned to where Ray, Jubilee, Roberto, Bobby, Rahne, Sam, Jamie and Amara were watching nervously. "You newer students; your inexperience will jeopardize the mission, and I simply can't risk using you. Risty, here..."

His eyes lingered on her for a long time - so long, it was almost creepy.

"For such a new addition, she's shown quite a bit of promise; however, promise is not enough when battling an opponent such as Magnus." He sighed yet again, glaring at Scott. "As for the rest, I'm left with the need to bolster your ranks. Therefore..."

When we heard a door swishing open, we looked up. What I saw nearly made me hurl.

"I'd like you to welcome your new teammates."

Avalanche, Quicksilver, The Blob, Toad, and The Scarlet Witch stood in the elevator, smug, haughty expressions on their faces.

"You vant  _us_  to vork vith  _them?"_  Kurt spat.

"Not  _this_  century!" Risty shouted.

"This is a joke, right?" I grumbled. Actually, I hoped it was, but the odds of that seemed kinda slim.

"Not a chance," Spyke growled.

"Professor, you're not serious, are you?" Kitty stalked over to him - I thought that was kinda ballsy of her. "After what they did to us?"

"Hey," Pietro said smoothly as he zipped behind Kitty at lightspeed, "we won, you lost - get over it!" He patted her shoulder briefly, then zipped away again before her hand could make contact with his face.

"Look," Xavier continued impatiently, "I know this will be difficult for some of you. But, despite your personal feelings, we face tremendous odds going against Magneto, and we will be a much stronger team with their help."

"Why are you guys volunteering for this, anyway?" Evan demanded, stalking forward. "You don't like us any more than we like you!"

"We got our reasons," Pietro said, grinning wickedly.

"Yeah," Toad sniggered, "maybe it's 'Be Kind To Losers Week'."

"And from what I've seen, it looks like you people can use a new team leader." Avalanche walked up to Cyclops, stopping inches from his face and jabbing a finger into his chest.

"Yeah?" he shot back, grabbing the thug by the collar. "Well, guess what, Shakedown? You can  _have_  the job." He tossed Lance out of the way, pushing his way between Pietro and Fred. "I'm done with this."

"Scott-!" Jean cried out before the Professor caught her arm.

"Jean! Let him go."

"Let him go?" She glanced up again to watch the elevator doors close behind Scott. "Professor-"

"Time is of the essence. Right now, we must continue training while you resume your efforts with Cerebro. If we find Wolverine... we find Magneto."

After squirming for a moment, she nodded obediently. The rest of us glanced at each other, then at the Brotherhood - wolves in wolves' clothing. Our new teammates, huh?

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"I know we're all kinda bummed that Jean and Scott can't be here," Kitty said nervously, "but we gotta do  _something!"_

It was kinda cramped, five people in Risty's Escort, but not so bad that we were sitting on each other; Kitty and Kurt were skinny enough that they could just fit in the back seat with Evan. "I think Jean and Scott being here would mean Sardine City," he grumbled.

"It's the most private place I could think of," I said, shrugging. "I mean, how could they know we're holding an emergency meeting in a car?"

"We should look for Scott one more time," Evan hissed. "Maybe-"

"We'll look later," Risty said. "For now, let's just think things out for ourselves."

Once we were on the highway, we felt like we could really talk. Any telepaths back at the mansion would have a harder time pinning down our thoughts of dissent.

"Okay, so let's review," Kurt began. "The Professor's gone  _crazy!"_

"I think we can all agree on that," Risty sighed.

"What'll we do?" Kitty asked. "Can't we, like, vote or something?"

"Or mutiny," Evan said. "Overthrow Captain Screwy back there."

"Alright," I sighed. "I guess it's my turn to do the whole Devil's Advocate thing. Let's say he's not just insane-"

"Do ve have to?" Kurt whined.

"-and he's got a reason," I ploughed ahead. "Now, c'mon, let's really think about this."

"You heard him," Evan said bitterly. "He thinks we're chumps. The seven of us just don't cut the mustard."

"Eww," Kitty said, making a face. "I hate mustard."

"I love mustard!" Kurt said, warming to the new topic. "Especially on a good frankfurter, vith some pickle relish and a-"

" _HEY!"_  Risty shouted. "Are we going to discuss the fate of the X-Men or order lunch?"

"Ve can't do both?" Kurt frowned.

Kurt's stomach ensured the meeting didn't really accomplish anything until we got to a Dairy Queen. Crammed in a corner booth, we all began pigging out, talking between bites.

"The real burn is," Kitty said as she set her Blizzard down heavily, "he never had any faith in us. I mean, he obviously called those losers in before we even finished the Danger Room run. He  _predicted_  we'd stink."

"That's because they can clean our clocks," Kurt lamented. "And they have."

"The Brotherhood geeks got skills," Evan admitted, stabbing his cheeseburger with his straw as if it were Wanda. "I mean, they smeared us all over the pavement last time, so obviously they're not complete marshmallows."

"But why  _them?_ " Kitty insisted. "There have to be some other mutants he coulda picked!"

"Like he said," I managed from around a few french fries, "the new kids just aren't good enough to join the fray."

"Yeah... hey," Evan said quietly. "When he said Risty's 'promise' wasn't enough to fight Magneto... did he mean she was off the team?"

We all started at that notion. Risty looked genuinely surprised, as well.

"I hadn't really thought about it at the time," she whispered, looking between us. "I mean... I was a bit distracted by the whole 'you're rubbish, so meet the bleeding cavalry' debacle. You... you think he's having second thoughts about me?"

"Oh, no!" Kitty wailed earnestly. "But you just joined!"

"I think ve're jumping to conclusions," Kurt soothed, gesturing with a chili dog (and dripping gloppy cheese all over the table). "Maybe he just meant she needs to train more... vhich vill be happening in a few hours," he added hopelessly.

"That's probably it," Evan nodded, leaning back and taking a long draw at his Misty slush. "I mean, she was in it with us right up 'til the end, huh, Kitty?"

She nodded. "Yeah... I guess the extra training must be what he meant. For all of us, probably."

"I do hope you're right," Risty muttered, stirring a pool of ketchup on a napkin with a "chip".

"Don't worry, Laz'," Evan said with a thumbs up. "We got your back." That forced a shy smile onto her lips.

"Whew," I said, wiping my forehead exaggeratedly. "Good thing, or we'd have all this useless black-and-purple spandex lyin' around, right?"

_"Oi!"_

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XI


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only borrowed a tiny portion of dialogue from the show, here. Be proud of me!

Our little trip to the burger joint made us all feel a little better. Unfortunately, when we came home to the mansion and remembered the five parasites that were probably rooting around in our fridge that very moment, it brought us back to reality with a sickening  _thud._

Kitty didn't seem to mind it as much as the rest of us; she hated that they were all suddenly moving in, but it gave her the opportunity to talk to Lance... and boy, did she. I'll never know what they talked about - or how much talking was involved - but as soon as we got back to the mansion, the two of them went off to parts unknown and weren't heard from until the next training run was scheduled to start.

Speaking of the next run, our spirits took another hit there. Professor Xavier, in his state of rabid determination, was driving us harder than Logan ever had; he was focusing mostly on the ten X-Men and Brotherhood members, but the rookies were getting a thorough schooling, too. Compared to this, our self-imposed extra training now seemed like an evening stroll through Bayville Park.

I really hate to admit it, but the Brotherhood bums weren't too shabby; we worked alright together, even though Lance and Pietro seemed to think they were calling the shots. I sure as hell didn't want the responsibility, but even if I did - and said as much - the Prof probably would've spouted off something about inexperience again. Kitty, Kurt, Evan, Risty and I kept our mouth shut on that one.

Risty seemed especially wary of Wanda; the witch didn't talk at all unless she absolutely had to, even when we tried to get her going.

"This sucks ass," Evan grunted, leaping over a ground drone and shoving his spike-staff into one of its optical sensors.

"Wanda," Kitty ventured bravely, "couldn't you just make these guys blow themselves up?"

Her reward was a cold "How  _dare_  you speak to me!" look from the introverted nutjob.

Ever since Scott had stomped outta the planning room and vanished, Jean had been cooped up in the Cerebro chamber. The Prof went to check on her now and again, but he mostly kept riding us into the ground. He really was a thousand times worse than Logan.

We all missed him... Scott, too. I had half a mind to barge in on Jean and demand she find Scott first and tell him to get his act together and help us, but I figured she had her hands full enough without my mouth. Besides, the Prof would probably chew me out for disturbing her efforts.

Y'know... despite all the shit that's happened to us since, that day was still one of the worst to be an X-Man.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

It had taken some pleading - and elbow grease - but we got a third bed moved into our room for Risty. The teachers weren't too happy with the idea of us being crammed in there like that, but it was obviously safer than moving her back into her old room alone, and much more practical than uprooting another kid to bunk in there with her.

 _"Phew,"_  Beast sighed as he dropped her mattress into the wooden bed frame. "I do believe your new roomie is adequately supplied, now. Let the acclimation begin!"

"Thanks much," Risty called after him as he lumbered out, waving over his shoulder. She looked at me funny when I started laughing.

"What?" Kitty asked.

"Come and knock on our door..." I sang.

"Oh, please," Risty mumbled, trying to suppress a grin.

"C'mon," I insisted. "You two do the backup!"

They both left the room, not wanting anything to do with the mouldy old theme song. Of course, I followed them out, and by the time we reached the bottom of the stairs, I had them singing it, anyway.

"...where the kisses are hers and hers and  _his,_ " we harmonized as we waltzed into the day room, pointing at Risty on that last word (much to her annoyance). "Three's company, too!"

"You guys sound cheery," Kurt laughed as his Raiden fried Evan's Sub-Zero onscreen.

"And off-key," Evan added. He moaned when he realized what Kurt had done, which was evidently the cue for Lance, Todd and Pietro to walk in.

" _Sweet_ , Mortal Kombat!" Toad cried, hopping over Lance's head to land next to the Evan on the couch. "Bet we can whip you losers."

" _HE_ can't play," Evan said, glancing at Pietro. "Supersonic speed is cheating, dude."

"You're probably right," the speed freak retorted, suddenly leaning against the HDTV. "You twerps couldn't even touch me  _or_  my pixelated avatar."

"C'mon, I got next," Toad insisted.

The X-Men versus Brotherhood digital deathmatch lasted a good two hours. Despite Evan's protests, Pietro had a few turns, and it turned out his speed was more of a handicap than an advantage; he'd get too excited and the poor console couldn't keep up with his blazing thumbs. Toad was a decent player (that's probably what he did at Mystique's house when he wasn't eating flies), and Lance was a total tenderfoot, but he started to get the hang of it after a few rounds. I'm no great shakes, but I held my own, and every now and again I'd pull a special move or Fatality outta my ass at just the right moment. Kitty mostly sat back and observed, though she did make an attempt or two... only to be blown away and go back to watching. The boys all enjoyed some good-natured trash-talking, but when tempers started rising, Kurt would offer to  _bamf_ into the kitchen and grab some sodas to cool them down.

Of course, Risty dominated. Nobody could touch her - not even Pietro when he kept his speed in check. The Brotherhood guys seemed to take it personally; they couldn't believe they were being trounced by some girl, and they challenged her again and again, claiming she was cheating in increasingly-ridiculous ways.

"I have  _not_  got a mystical bond with the PlayStation!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, we heard you got some kinda 'emotion wave' thing," Toad pressed. "You're telling it to slow down our characters!"

"It's a bloody machine!"

"So what? Maybe machines have feelings, too!"

When it got close to eleven, Ororo came in and broke up the argument, sending us off to bed. We needed our sleep, after all; another unrelenting Danger Room session in the morning.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

_"Risty!"_

My eyes fluttered open. It took me a few frantic moments to realize there was no dagger lodged in my throat, gushing precious lifesblood; there was only Rogue standing over me, shaking my shoulder violently.

"Wh-" I choked out, my throat dry as a gulch. "I'm... you can't do... eh?"

"Risty, you were having a nightmare."

It finally sunk in as I stared at her that I'd never been in any danger at all. I sighed in relief, nodding as she sat next to me on the bed.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," I whispered. "It... it's stupid."

"You sure?"

Oh, come now - how could I tell her that she'd been trying to kill me again, and had succeeded? The truth is, I was daft for having the dream in the first place; Rogue had never tried to kill me. Moreover, I felt particularly foolish every time I thought about how Mystique had duped me so easily into thinking my comrade would do such a thing - I should've known immediately! Didn't I trust Rogue? She was my closest, dearest friend in all the world, and if I couldn't trust her...

"It was awful, but... I'm fine now." I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Really."

In the dim moonlight, I just caught a smile on her lips before she bent down and hugged me. My hands involuntarily clutched at her back, giving her a start. What was I doing, clinging to her as if she were trying to abandon me in the middle of a lion's den - especially when I'd just finished telling her I was alright? I immediately whispered "Cheers" in her ear before letting go, settling back down and wearing a mask of languid contentment.

"Night," she breathed, keeping her hand on my shoulder for a long moment before returning to her own bed and snuggling inside it.

I turned over, but sleep eluded me for quite a while... possibly because I wasn't earnestly seeking it. A realm in which my best friend lurked, waiting for the perfect opening to land a killing blow, was not one I wished to visit.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

"Toad, Lazarus, Magma, you take the left," Avalanche ordered. "Kitty, Nightcrawler, Quicksilver, you guys sneak up behind him. Iceman, Wanda, Spyke, take the right. Blob, Rogue, Sunspot, you're with me; we'll come up the middle."

"What about us?" Ray asked, gesturing to Sam.

"Cover us," Spyke barked. Avalanche nodded.

"Fifteen seconds," Pietro said. "Then we strike."

 _"Go!"_  Lance hissed.

As he counted off, waiting for our teammates to get in position, Fred looked around and whispered, "This thing is so cool."

"Yeah," I muttered distractedly.

"Kinda sucks that... nevermind."

Before I could ask him what he was talking about, Lance bolted, and we were charging toward our target. A bonespike grazed the fake Magneto's shoulder, and a shuriken barely missed him as he moved to the left. The star turned in midair and began chasing Toad, whom hopped away from it with deceptive ease.

"Dammit!" I hissed.

"Magneto" carefully avoided Iceman's frigid blasts and a few firebombs from Amara, then turned his attentions to fending off Blob's bulk. As he spared a second to swat me away like an annoying mosquito, Kurt appeared behind him, arms wrapping around the neck as his legs encircled the waist. I picked myself up and ran forward, bare fingers reaching for my enemy's neck...

_"HEY-!"_

Okay, well, at least I had Iceman's frost, but in the second it took me to realize what had just happened, Magneto kicked me a few yards.

"Alright, luv?" Risty asked from my left as she helped me to my feet.

"Yeah," I grunted, ignoring the new bruise on my elbow.

"Watch this," she whispered, grinning wickedly. After a deep breath or two, her eyes screwed up in concentration. Just when her skin started to go slightly pale, the eyes flew back open again.

Magneto doubled over, holding his midsection as if he'd had some curdled milk. I wasted no time coating his legs in ice; a small earthquake from Lance toppled the faux archnemesis, and Sunspot took a mighty swing at his helmet, knocking it away and across the ground.

"What the-" Evan gasped.

"Nicely done, Lazarus." Ororo smiled as Magma helped her to her feet, allowing the Magneto cape to fall away. "That's good tactics; distracting your opponent from the efforts of your teammates. Your empathic wave is definitely coming along."

"Thanks, Miss Munroe," she panted shyly, clinging to me for a moment's support; I could tell that wave was one of her strongest, and she'd probably need a few minutes.

"Of course. But, thanks to this turn of events, I don't believe I'll be having luncheon with you this afternoon." She was still clutching her stomach. "I'm feeling a bit ill."

We all laughed as we headed to the showers (dragging along an unconscious Bobby), feeling pretty damn good about finally beating the "Polarity" simulation.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Risty was the unquestionable center of attention at lunch. Before, everybody thought her powers were kinda interesting in a  _Rocky Horror Picture Show_  sense, and that she was a good fighter; now, they considered her heebie-jeebies the linchpin in our scheme to defeat Magneto and rescue Wolverine.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Laz," Roberto said earnestly. "You threw the target off her game - I just brought her down."

"I hardly did anything," she insisted.

"Of course not," Lance drawled sarcastically. "I mean, who cares about decisive blows? Next, you'll say Toad saved the day by running away like a wimp."

"Hey!" Todd puffed his chest out. "I was hoppin' for my life in there!"

"Sam says you did pretty good with my freeze ray," Bobby said, pointing at me with his fork. "Maybe you should take it full-time."

"Or not," I laughed. "You know I was going for Mag- uhh, Storm."

"It'll work, I  _know_  it," Kitty was saying emphatically. "Kurt gets Lazarus close enough so she can send a willy-wave at ol' Buckethead, and down he goes, just like in the sim!"

"It won't be that easy," Risty moaned helplessly. They all thought she was their saviour, and nothing she could say would change their minds. I caught her eye and shrugged, grinning like a Cheshire cat; she rolled her eyes and busied herself with her green beans.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"I'm not The One," Risty said flatly as she sunk into her bed. "You're going to have to tell Morpheus and The Oracle to keep searching."

"C'mon," I laughed, throwing a pillow at her. "They have a point; if we all pool our abilities - especially yours - we've actually got a shot against him."

She caught my projectile and hurled it back. "Alright, alright. I just hope everything plays out the way it does in Rogue-Land."

We remained quietly sprawled on our beds for a few minutes, digesting and thinking. When I looked over at my desk to check the clock, I was startled to see Risty standing there; I didn't hear her get up or walk across the room.

_"AAAAH!"_

"Sorry!" she said, jumping back. "Didn't mean to surprise you!"

"It's cool." As I sat up and soothed my rattled nerves, she plopped down in my desk chair, eyes flicking between me and my boots. "What's up?"

"Luv... there's something I've been meaning to tell you... perhaps it's not my place to, but..."

"Hey," I said, leaning forward and placing a hand on her knee. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that."

A shadow of a smile flashed across her nervous features, and was gone almost before it was there. "I suppose she won't be mentioning this anytime soon, and... well, you deserve to know. I only hope you don't abhor me for bearing these bothersome tidings."

"Spit it out, already!"

She was still looking up at me and biting her lip when the lights began to flicker between their usual fluorescent white and a deep crimson.

" _WOTSIS?"_  Risty yelped, head swiveling this way and that.

I immediately stood and headed for the door. "Time to move."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord..."

"Risty, will you cut that out?" I reached across the aisle and slugged a violet flame-adorned upper arm gently. "You'll be fine."

" _Ja,_ " Kurt chimed in from behind me. "Vhat, you don't think ve've had enough training?"

A laugh died on her lips as the Professor boarded the Velocity and turned toward the cockpit. He glanced toward us, did a double take and froze.

"Everything's ready, Charles," Storm said from the co-pilot's seat. When he didn't respond, she turned around. "Charles-"

"What is Lazarus doing here?" he demanded.

"Uhh... she's an X-Man?" Evan said tentatively from his seat in front of her.

"Get off this helicopter, Risty," Xavier said quietly.

"Wh-"

"Rogue, now is not the time. Lazarus simply isn't ready for a battle of this magnitude, capable and sharp though she may be."

After glancing around, Jean meekly cleared her throat. "Professor-"

 _"SILENCE!"_  She wasn't the only one who flinched at the ferocity of that outburst. The Prof took a deep, calming breath, then continued. "Lazarus will, of course, be in charge of the New Mutants if we are to need emergency reinforcements. Until then, she is to remain at the mansion. Is that understood?"

Without another word, Risty stood and ran down the aisle, almost knocking him from his chair in her haste to leave. I glanced out the window to see her tearing across the hangar at breakneck.

"Secure the hatch and prepare for takeoff," the Professor barked as he moved to the pilot's controls. We were about to start whispering about how outrageous and dumb he was being when we heard Ororo do just that... to his face.

"What about Scott?"

"He still hasn't returned," he replied as he buckled himself in. "We cannot wait for him any longer." He glanced up, and I guess Ororo's eyes must've been boring straight through him - I couldn't see her too good from where I was sitting, but I sure could watch his reactions. "Storm," he sighed, "you know as well as I do that if the boy's lost his confidence, he'll only be a liability."

"This is a mistake, Charles. We  _need_  him. Lazarus, as well. Are you-"

"Velocity to X-Jet," Xavier said as he put on the headset, brushing aside any further comment from Ororo. "All systems are go."

"Copy that," Beast's tinny voice came over the speakers. "See you skyward."

I turned to the window in time to see Risty's weak little wave from the edge of the hangar bay. Helplessly, I waved back, and I could only hope she saw it before she disappeared through a door. Just as the chopper's blades started to turn, Amara ran in through the same door, shouting and flailing her arms.

"Professor," Jean said, "Magma wants something."

"Hmm? Oh, yes... she probably wants to come along," he replied dismissively. "I'm sorry to disappoint the girl, but this is not a pleasure cruise."

I had gone beyond crestfallen to enraged. Unable to check it completely, I kicked the seat in front of me without restraint. Its occupant jumped, but didn't say anything; she was too busy gazing wistfully at Scott's empty seat. Evan had his arms crossed and was glaring at the floor, almost as if he would pick a fight with the landing gear just to release some of his resentment.

"This sucks rotten eggs," Kurt whispered to me. "Ve're down two very valuable soldiers, here!"

"Sure you don't wanna rethink a mutiny?" Evan hissed through gritted teeth.

To be honest, that was starting to sound less like a joke and more like a plan of action.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XII


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... half of this chapter's dialogue (and nearly all of its plot elements) were stolen outright from the show. I'm sorry, but I see no other way of writing the story at this point. Don't worry, though; I'm still writing it, so if you've seen these episodes, you'll probably skim over some of the chapterlets. I promise I'll make it as interesting as I can under the circumstances (there's still the whole first-person thing to make it a unique retelling, right?)... oh, and it will depart drastically at certain points in the future. :grins evilly:
> 
> [AO3 NOTE: Urgh, I'm so ashamed that I borrowed as heavily as I did, but oh well. With age comes wisdom. Also, the POV-switching gets a bit nauseating in this stretch.]

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"Hey, what's the matter, Lazarus?"

Of all the luck. She had to come along right then and catch me crouching just outside the hangar, sobbing like a two-year-old with a skinned knee. Couldn't I get a moment's peace to grieve for my fallen status?

"N-nothing, Jubilee. I'm just... not quite X-Man material yet, according to the Professor."

The brash girl smiled bitterly, hunching down next to me and laying a surprisingly-gentle hand on my shoulder. "Just like us, huh?"

Hearing that, it suddenly hit me how right the Professor was. I'd let the others convince me that I was somehow a boon, an essential part of the core team... indispensable. Me, whom had just arrived scant weeks ago! Nevermind that Jubilation here and all the other "rookies" had been there for nearly an entire school year. Letting my friends inflate my ego had inexorably led to to a painful deflating. How could I have let myself think I was somehow better than my fellow neophytes?

"Right you are," I choked out, wiping my eyes and smiling. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Waking me from my dream." I coughed, then sighed, getting to my feet. "Damn, if only Cyclops were along with them... I'd feel a lot better about this whole mess, then. Alas, he's nowhere to be found."

"Oh, I know where he is."

My head spun around so fast I almost gave myself whiplash. "You do?"

She nodded. "Lookout Point. He always goes there when he needs to think."

I couldn't tell you why on Earth she'd bother remembering such a thing, but for some reason Mystique knew where that was... and so did I.

"You're sure he's there?" I began walking swiftly down the corridor.

"Well, no, but he probably is after what happened." She looked at me nervously as she tried to keep pace with my strides. "What's with the Professor lately? He's being such a dick."

"No time to analyse that just now," I murmured as I turned down a hallway. When Jubilee turned with me, I stopped short, glancing back at her. "You just stay here. I've an errand to run."

"Um, okay?" I gave her no time to ask further questions.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

The front gates clanging behind me held an ominous tone - a finality. Perhaps it was just my imagination fueled by determination; we needed our leader, and I was going to pull his head from his arse with my own hands if need be.

Well, I suppose I was a bit preoccupied, as I automatically began driving on the lefthand side of the road. This was all well and good for a few miles, but a jeep hurtling straight for me brought me back to American traffic guidelines fairly quickly.

_"AIGH!"_

I caught a quick flash of a woman with short blonde hair and a frantic expression that most likely mirrored mine just before I swerved back into my lane. Close call, that.

Though the blue wench's directions were a bit sketchy, I managed to find Lookout Point (mostly because it wasn't terribly far). Sure enough, there was Scott Summers, sitting on the bonnet of his red-and-white-striped beast of a machine and staring down the hillside into the blissfully-dull streets of Bayville far below. He looked up when he heard my breaks so close-by, and hopped down when he recognised who was interrupting his vigil.

"Lazarus!" he shouted as I slipped the car keys into an empty belt pouch. "What in-"

"You just listen to me, One-eye," I said as I walked up to him, index finger wagging in his face. "You're acting like a first-rate wanker, and that has  _got_  to stop. Get your sorry arse back to the Institute!"

He folded his arms. "You say that like I have a reason to."

"I can name six. Can you tell me what they might be, or are you too bleedin' thick to scrape this one on your own?"

A rude comment of some sort died on his lips as he watched my flared nostrils pulsate. He struggled with mental demons for several long seconds, then dropped his hands. "You're right. I shouldn't have run out on the team like that just because those jerkwads showed up. I apologize."

"That's better, luv." I clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"Man, some captain I am, right?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself," I told him, sighing to let out the rage I'd been building up the entire drive here; Scott had unknowingly robbed me of a good outlet for my anger at being sacked. But true remorse showed in his voice, and I couldn't give him the verbal reaming now, could I? "The sight of the 'Oh, Brother-Hood' riled us all, I'd say."

He looked back toward Bayville, shoulders slumping and expression masked by his ever-present sunglasses. "Well, I'm not too crazy about going back there while it's still Lance's game, but... I've already let you guys down enough for one week, right?"

I coughed. "Oh, yes. Well, there's this other bit of news I need to-"

Now was not the proper time. I knew that the moment I heard squealing tires and a car horn. That same blonde tart in the jeep was suddenly bearing down on us, and Amara of all people was with her! The latter jumped out and ran up to us.

"Scott, we've been looking all over for you!" He raised his eyebrows, and so did Amara. "Lazarus? What-"

"The mansion's gone  _nuts!"_  the other girl shouted as she ran up - I noticed she was quite a tall thing, and considerably weighed down by makeup and jewelry. "It's locked up tight, and there's weapons firing everywhere!"

"Oh God," Scott gasped. "DEFCON4."

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

"Just where are we going? Where's Logan?"

I expected an answer from the Professor, but Jean turned to me. "New York City. Pier 58."

"Pier?" Evan asked, snapping out of his funk. "What, Magneto's gonna ship him to Cuba?"

"Beats me," Jean muttered with a shrug.

"This is horrible," Kurt babbled. "Rushing into battle vithout Cyclops is like making a hot fudge sundae vithout a bowl - a big honking mess!"

"And our whole plan hinged on Lazarus," Jean whispered, leaning in slightly. "I really don't understand the Professor's logic anymore."

"Exactly," Evan hissed. "I mean, he gave her the nod to join the team himself, then kicks her off a few days later. How effed-up is that?"

I'd say I was equally nervous about this mission and Risty. I was going off into a fight of maddening proportions; Risty was probably devastated at being left behind. If only there'd been the time to say something to her, to convey how badly I wished we could fight alongside each other, how wrong I thought the Professor was...

But then said Prof and Ororo were briefing us, and I had to push all that from my mind. I'd see her when we got back...  _if_  we did.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"Who the hell are  _you?"_

"Risty, Tabitha; Tabitha, Risty," Amara screamed over the road noise (there hadn't really been time to put the top of Scott's convertible up). "And why are you being so cold? We're all mutants here, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Tabitha muttered, still staring at me uneasily. No one bothered to explain her presence any further than that, but I reasoned that there'd be time for detailed character biographies later.

"Okay, back to the emergency," Scott said as he peeled around a corner. "What started all this?"

"Hey, I don't  _know_  what happened," Tabitha yelled as she turned to him. "I was on my way to the mansion to talk to Professor X about Mystique."

"Whoa, what?" Scott hissed, glancing at her as we got stuck behind an elderly woman doing a mere 25.

"Huh?"

"What  _about_  Mystique?" he and I shouted in unison.

"She's running the show again," she continued slowly, glancing at me. "She's the reason Lance and the Brainless Boys attacked you guys in the mall."

"That was  _her_  doing?" I growled, my eyes flashing. "That insipid-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Scott said, shaking his head, "this just isn't adding up. Mystique's back, but the Brotherhood's helping us? Then she attacks Risty... and now the Institute suddenly goes into DEFCON4?"

"Attacked  _you?"_  Tabitha exclaimed, whirling to me. "Why would she wanna do that?"

"Long story," Amara said quickly; I'd have to remember to thank her for that later.

"There's something  _very_  wrong, here," Scott muttered. "Who's side is she on?"

"Not mine," I said quietly.

"Hmm... good point. Uh, no pun intended." Finally spotting an opening in the oncoming traffic, Scott peeled around the old hag before he continued. "Once we get this DEFCON situation under control, we'll figure out what Mystique's up to. I can't let her run around trying to stab people in the dead of the night."

"We might not have time to sit around thinking," Amara began.

"Why not?"

••••••••••••••••••LOGAN••••••••••••••••••

"Step forward, Wolverine."

Alright, just so's ya know, I ain't  _nobody's_  lapdog. I only did what he said 'cause I was impatient to get to the bottom of this. Gettin' bagged and tagged, then left to cool my heels in solitary confinement for days at a time ain't listed nowhere on my day planner.

When he turned on the damn floodlights, I growled at the sudden brightness. "What's yer game, Trask?"

"Call it... research." I squinted up to see the self-important so-and-so standin' on a catwalk like he was the Queen of England. "I've created a prototype designed to defend mankind against the mutant threat."

Ooh, I had a really good barb ready ta spit at 'im, but I got distracted by my cuffs suddenly fallin' off. Just like that, I was free to go, huh? I smelled a rat – and its name was Bolivar Trask. Shielding my eyes, I tried to spot the bigot again, but the lights winked out.

"My guardian of the human race: the Sentinel."

Anything with a name like that can't be what ya'd call cute 'n' cuddly. My claws were instantly out, teeth bared, nostrils flarin'. Whatever a turncoat bum like Trask can dish out, I can take - after all, I'm the best at what I do.

The hair on the back o' my neck started tinglin'. I jumped outta the way just in time to avoid the world's biggest goddamn boot tryin' to turn me into a greasy flapjack. When it hit the floor, I looked up to see what it was attached to.

"Oh, you gotta be shittin' me..."

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"Up  _that?"_

Scott didn't reply; he simply took his visor from the glovebox and set it in place of his sunglasses, ready for anything.

"Are you sure?" Tabitha persisted.

"Trust me - it's the only way in."

I glanced nervously at the vertical crag outlining the waterfall. "If we must..."

••••••••••••••••••LOGAN••••••••••••••••••

All in all, I's doin' pretty good; I'd sliced off the arm of a crane they'd left lyin' around, took aim and gave the stinkin' robot an achy shoulder joint. Now it was time to play Tarzan.

_"GRAAAH!"_

Maybe ya don't know me, but I got a real knack for disablin' traps; picked it up durin' the war. Once I'd swung from the cable into "Goliath"'s side, my claws were makin' quick work of his metal guts. He kept tryin' to swat me, but I'd like ta think I'm quicker'n any tin can. Soon enough, I crawled onto his back, slicin' off more doodads and tryin' to pry somethin' loose that'd shut the sucker down.

Yeah, well he eventually threw me off into a pile o' crates (I guess I's really startin' to show my age). I dragged myself outta there, but what I saw sure weren't pretty.

_"Frig."_

The last thing I remember is starin' down eight huge barrels stickin' outta that thing's chest before I tried to scramble up the wall. Everything after that's a blank.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

_"HNNGH!"_

As I helped Scott to his feet, Tabitha snickered. "Splat. So it's a no-go, huh?"

"Unless one of you three recently developed telekinesis," he said, rubbing his bruised backside, "we're gonna have to go through down here."

"Alright, back up, ladies," the blonde said, rubbing her hands together and ignoring Scott's derisive snort, "Time for a little badda-bing, badda b-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Scott said as he hurriedly clasped his hands over her glowing ones. "How about we avoid the whole rockslide scenario?" He relaxed when she frowned, then turned. "Amara?"

"Okay." The young pyromancer took a deep breath. "I can do this."

Her entire body became like glowing, molten rock as waves of searing heat leapt forth and bit through the cliff face, tunneling inward. Even as she burrowed further, the crag cooled behind her, and it was scarcely warmer than the outside air as we followed her into the cavern beyond.

"Wow," Tabitha breathed. "So what do you call this, the X-Cave?"

"Does she really have to tag along?" I whispered to Scott.

"Ugh," Magma spat, jabbing at a red button on a panel with increasing frustration. "Elevator's not working."

Scott debated for a half a second, then motioned us toward a stairwell. When we reached the level above, we received a hero's welcome... as only a villain could deliver.

A minute or so of our small corps hurling assorted projectiles at the automated lasers and cameras allowed us passage.

"Okay," Scott shouted, "let's go!"

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

"Understood."

Evan glanced over. "What's our M.O.?"

"The loading docks," Jean replied. "Evidently, Magneto's not alone."

That may have been, but when we arrived, we sure were; the dock was completely deserted. The only interesting sight was a few of Buckethead's metal transport orbs nearby.

"Kurt," Jean hissed.

"On it!"

As the fuzzy elf teleported over to the orbs and Jean paced off to scout the surroundings, I turned to Evan with a disgusted sigh. "This blows."

"Hard and long," he agreed, staring around as if waiting for shadows to pop out and swallow him.

"Maybe we could ask the Prof to go back in the Velocity... see if he can find Scott and bring him here."

"Oh, sure. We'll ask him to axe the Brotherhood creeps and put Laz back on the team, too. Maybe then we can call this whole throw-down off and grab some donuts with Magneto like one big happy mutant family."

"No need to bite my head off..."

He sighed, running a hand through his unnaturally-blonde hair. "Yeah... sorry, my bad. But this 'team members aren't important to the team' crap is starting to rub me the wrong way, you feel me?"

"Hey, no need to tell me that, either. God, I wish Risty was here..."

As he was still nodding glumly, Jean motioned us over, ending our anti-Prof discussion. "Confirmed," she was saying, more to the Velocity than us. "The orbs are empty."

"Y'know," I said, putting my hands on my hips, "I don't get this."

"Yeah..." Spyke was still glancing around impatiently. "I mean, they gotta know we're here."

Kurt poofed in next to me, shrugging. "Now vhat? There's no sign of anybody."

Jean looked like she was getting ready to make a decision when a glowing Ace of Spades fluttered in outta nowhere.

"Huh?" She stared at it intently for a moment, seeming to understand more than the rest of us - which I guess was true, because then she opened up her lungs and screeched,  _"Run!"_

I'd barely put a few yards behind me when it touched the ground and went off, propelling me headfirst into a heap of garbage. I painfully picked myself up, trying to ignore the smell and looking around for my teammates.

"What the hell was  _that?_ " Evan gasped from somewhere off to my left.

Before any of us could form any solid theories, Wanda's distant, aggravated growl reached our ears.

_"IT'S A TRAP!"_

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XIII


	14. Chapter 14

"Who are  _these_ jerks supposed to be?"

Kitty got no answer; none of us knew the men smugly perched on the stack of crates, and we didn't really want to. Unfortunately, ignorance wasn't our choice to make.

Sabretooth I recognised, of course; he always needed a shave and a bath (not to mention a Certs). The orange-haired guy with the propane tank strapped to his back was cackling like a dork, igniting everything flammable in the general vicinity. The imposing guy covered in tinfoil just stood there, like his presence alone was supposed to be enough to end the fight.

And the guy in the brown trenchcoat wouldn't take his creepy eyes off me. At least we knew where the exploding Ace came from - he was shuffling a full deck of cards, grinning like he had a secret he wouldn't tell.

There was no time to ask; he started flinging Spades and Clubs at us, and it was all we could do to keep our extremities away from the blasts. Beast leaped forward to divert this attack... only to have Sabretooth start crawling all over him.

_"EVAN!"_

Jean used her "hands-free method" to fling him away from a flaming oil drum the hothead had kicked in our direction. Kurt  _bamf_ ed away from a tendril of fire, but Jean and I were being herded in. Not that I knew him then, but it was plain as the smirk on his face that Carrot Top's nephew there was lord of the flames. Heh... seriously, that pun  _was_ unintentional, but if you could see his getup...

Man, if only I'd gained the power of flight back in those days... that's how Jean escaped. I, however, was left to rely on my legs, which didn't seem to be carrying me fast enough at that moment. The last way I wanted to leave this world was as a pile of ash. Why did I have to be so useless?

"I shoulda taken Bobby up on his offer," I muttered.

Just as I felt my hair begin to scorch, the flames were gone - and I was soaking wet. Never had I been so glad to see Storm.

The hothead started to run when he realised he'd met his match, but Ororo wasn't finished; she unleashed a lightning bolt that fried his little backpack, sending him to the pavement.

"Hah!" I gasped, clutching my chest. "Serves the little pyro right." And seriously, I had no idea that was his codename.

_"Where's Wolverine?"_

I spun in the direction of Beast's voice and saw him climbing a skeleton tower of steel girders.

"He's... around," Sabretooth growled from his perch above.

Then one of the beams decided it might be fun to grab Mr. McCoy, which surprised him and me. I looked around frantically; Magneto was here, but where? And why didn't he have the guts to show himself? Hadn't Rebirth pumped him up enough to take us on face to face?

 _'At least Risty's safe back at the ranch,'_  I thought cheerlessly.  _'This is a nightmare.'_

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"This is a nightmare!"

"You're telling me," Amara panted as we neared the control room. "And here I thought we were missing out on all the action!"

The door swished open obediently ahead of us. As we raced inside, it seemed the other rookies had had the same idea... and weren't having loads of success shutting down the system.

"Wait!" Scott shouted. Berserker lowered his glowing hands, glancing up curiously. "Do that, and it's all over - and I don't mean in a good way."

"Scott..."

He followed my line of sight to the main monitor, and that quick glance told us both there wasn't a moment to spare; the screen read "DEMOLITION MODE - 00:58".

Scott and I immediately moved to the console. He shot me a questioning look when I started hammering away, but focused his attention on the screen as our hands flew over the panel, desperately trying to produce any results that would embetter our situation. When the countdown approached thirty seconds, he barked over his shoulder, "Does anyone know who did this?"

"We have no idea," Roberto said helplessly.

Scott turned back to the monitor gaily flashing "ACCESS DENIED", teeth threatening to smash each other apart from ill-released vexation. He finally glanced over at the smaller window in the corner that I'd been playing with.

"Nevermind. I just got my answer." We both leaned in, glaring hotly at the security feed. If only I'd already known or had the time to figure out how to up the resolution, to see what sequences were keyed in to initiate this catastrophe, perhaps I could've actually been useful...

"Who  _cares?"_  Ray shouted, grabbing Scott by the shoulder. "Just get us out whatever way you came in!"

"There's no  _time!"_  he growled back, glancing at the screen. "Fifteen seconds!"

"What  _do_  we do, Scott?" Amara cried.

"Yeah," Bobby said, stepping forward. "What's our plan?"

"Scott?" A vein in his forehead began to announce just how frantically he was thinking.

"Ten seconds to demolition," the aggravatingly-cool female voice of the computer intoned, as if announcing it was going to be partly cloudy with a thirty percent chance of fog. Henceforth, I've always hated that thing.

 _"Follow me!"_  Scott half-screamed, leading us from the room at a dead sprint as the bloody contraption continued to count down our impending doom...

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

Wandering among the huge wooden boxes on the outskirts of Pier 58 was like being trapped in a labyrinth, and it didn't help that I could hear the sounds of battle all around me. But I had to keep my head in the game; my teammates were out there putting their lives on the line, and I had to help in any way I could.

Movement. Friend or foe? Instinctively, I whipped off a glove, ready to suck the life from whichever of Magneto's flunkies was dumb enough to take me on... if it  _was_  one of his flunkies.

I rounded a corner and found myself staring at a goatee. Right above it was a charming smile, and further up was that pair of haunting eyes I'd been weirded out by earlier.

"Huh?"

I tensed, but he just grinned wider, holding up a King of Hearts as if that day were our anniversary and the card was from Hallmark. I took it, completely baffled, and peered up at him again.

Why couldn't I tear my eyes away from his? They weren't all that special; brown. But... but why did I keep imagining other colours? Why did I keep seeing his irises were red, only to blink and realise they weren't?

Before I could ask him about that, I realized with a start that he was a few yards away, saluting. Then, with a courtly bow, he ran off like a wildebeest with a lion on its tail.

"Hmm," I said, idly glancing at the card in my hand. "...oh."

Lord Almighty, I can't believe I was that  _STUPID!_  Standing there, drooling over that cocky Cajun like he was Trent-fricking-Reznor himself, not even noticing he was trying to blow my arm off! Lucky me, most playing cards don't glow pink, which woke me up enough to throw it away before I lost an appendage.

That reminds me; I never really did thank him for that... I'll have to next time I see him. Nothing says "I appreciate it" like a groin-kick. Anyway, back to the tet-a-tet.

I pelted through the crate maze after that bastard, revenge filling every corner of my brain, but he was nowhere to be found. What a slippery snake! Grunting with annoyance, I picked my way back to the heat of the battle, arriving just in time to see Sabretooth land on top of Beast.

"No!" I gasped, rushing over to him. As Magneto's burly thug busied himself lifting a dumpster over his head, I brushed Mr. McCoy's cheek, feeling my muscles steadily bulge and my reflexes amplify. It was time to turn the tide.

"So long, hair brain!" I growled, vaulting into his midsection. God, it felt damn good to be useful again.

••••••••••••••••••WITCH••••••••••••••••••

Bastard. Old bastard. He was there. I knew he was there.

Took me a while. X-Men and Brotherhood... fighting the Acolytes. Distracted me. They didn't matter. Where was that son of a bitch?

_There._

Standing on a skyscraper like he owned the world. Fool. Didn't he know I was down there? He ruined my life, and I was going to ruin his. If he'd had an ounce of sense, he'd have ran away. But he didn't. The buildings knew my anger as I stalked toward him. They knew I'd get him back. Bastard.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

"There! It's Magneto!"

I glanced up from my struggle to help Beast to his feet, gloves firmly back in place, when I heard Ororo's cry. First I saw Wanda, her hexing power ripping apart everything within a few yards of her as she moved toward a skyscraper with definite purpose. Then I spotted the tiny maroon dot on the top of the building. Off we went, rarin' to help Scarlet Witch take it to the man himself.

We didn't get far before the ground opened and swallowed us whole.

••••••••••••••••••WITCH••••••••••••••••••

 _NO!_  Not again! He did it to me once, but not again!

He was far away, but I could see him... the cold look in his eyes. No love lived there. I'm supposed to be crazy?  _He's_ the crazy one.

My hand caught the lip of the crater. He was trying to throw us down there, trying to stop me. I had to get to him, tear him apart, crush him, make him understand what he'd done...

But he crumbled my handhold without so much as a blink. Down, down, down. Bastard did it again. Abandoned his only daughter to the wolves.

Abandoned me.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

"Unnnnghhh..."

A dull ache resounding through my head like a gong, I weakly struggled to raise my head, clutching at the rubble under me for support and trying to clear my vision. What a migraine! A thud to my left drew my ears.

"W... Wanda?" The poor little psycho curled into a dirty red ball on the floor, tears of intermingling pain, grief and resentment rolling down her dust-coated cheeks. It was hard to witness without empathising. I started to say something... but what do you say to an emotionally-ravaged maniac, anyway? While I was trying to come up with a kind word or two, I heard the unmistakable, heart-stopping sound of guns being cocked.

"Uh-oh..."

"Nobody move," Storm hissed.

"Uhh," Toad said in a quavering voice, staring around at the dozens of soldiers aiming for our hearts, "who wants to move?"

"Hold your fire." Some geek with graying temples strode out to stand between a few of his men. Before we could demand he tell us what was going on, we heard a series of heavy thuds.

"Aw, man," Spyke moaned tiredly, _"Now_  what?"

Kurt cocked his head. "Almost sounds like... footsteps."

"Operatives, move out!" the man barked. I guess he was the big cheese, since the guys and their guns vanished.

"So what-"

A three-story scarlet robot smashing through the wall answered my question for me. Not giving us time to react, its chestplate slid open, revealing too many gun barrels to bother counting... but enough to worry about.

"I sure do wish Scott was here," Jean uttered.

Everything happened so fast. X-Men and Brotherhood members were scrambling all over. The floor was rising. The old army guy shouted something nobody heard.

Suddenly, we were back on good ole Pier 58... and so was the metal monstrosity.

"Why does the goddamn ground keep  _moving?"_  Kitty screamed.

Wanda glared up and to her right. "Magneto."

After that, we were too busy staying alive to be much for conversation.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

" _HEAVE!"_

An umpteenth grunt of exertion finally prised a twisted metal panel loose, revealing the warm sunlight and sending a gust of welcome fresh air around us.

"About time," Bobby panted.

"Ahh," Roberto sighed, soaking up the sun's rays blissfully and glowing ever brighter. "I was afraid my 'batteries' would run down before I could reunite with glorious Sol."

We picked our way through the rubble that was once the beautiful Xavier Institute For Gifted Youngsters, stumbled across the ruined lawns and collapsed in the feeble shelter of a wood on the edge of the mansion estate. Scott, however, was not in the mood for a breather; he was pacing continuously, teeth bared and vein popping once more.

"Relax," I soothed after having watched him do this for nearly twenty minutes - it had grown quite tiresome. "Nothing to be done."

"Oh, something's gonna be done, alright." He paused to yank a tree branch from its owner violently. "And I'm going to be the one doing it."

"They're off God-knows-where," I insisted. "You're not going to do any good tearing up this grove."

"So let's go."

"No," I said adamantly. "Go where? Scott, we've not a single lead; we can't just lead our young charges there half-cocked into the night, hoping we trip over Magneto!"

"Then what am I supposed to  _do?"_  he fumed, clutching at his hair.

I took a deep breath. You don't know how unsettling it was to see our leader, our rock and anchor, come apart at the seams like that. I wanted to make sure I used the right words - make sure he didn't run screaming into the wilderness, ripping at clothes that were already in tatters and laughing like a hyena. The X-Men have always needed him... and always will.

"Be still. Compose your thoughts. Rest. They'll be back... and we'll be waiting."

When I cracked my knuckles in austere anticipation, he seemed to finally grasp that I was just as keen on the encounter as he was. He leaned against a tree, gusting a heavy sigh.

"Fine. We wait."

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE•••••••••••••••••

_"AUNTIE O!"_

Evan trembled with rage at the sight of his aunt lying on the pavement, unconscious. Eyes wild, he leapt onto a car and peppered the hulking pile of nuts and bolts with bonespikes from the front of his body. A few managed to blow up a gunbarrel or two, but they mostly bounced off its armour harmlessly. Spent, Evan flipped back to the ground, panting heavily.

"Stupid piece of  _crap!"_  he spat, watching it stumble back from its exploding weapons with grim satisfaction.

All I could do was watch helplessly as my friends fought the monolith. I had no weapons, no borrowed powers... nothing. Hell, the damn thing wasn't even alive - what good was I now?

With Jean's help, Blob sent a car hurtling into the robot; the flames from its explosion seemed to throw it off for a moment. Avalanche tried to knock it over with a seismic wave, but it acted as if nothing was happening. Spyke and Toad attacked to no avail. I guess I wasn't the only one who felt useless...

To make matters worse (somehow), I could see helicopters swarming in the sky above, and they all had network emblems painted on the sides. I almost sunk to my knees in despair at that; hovering over our fate-hanging-in-the-balance war was the end of our social lives.

Blob and Jean made to launch another car - the third or fourth, maybe - but a huge glob of green junk slammed into Blob, causing him to drop it. We watched in horror as it hardened around him, a panicked, outraged expression permanently etched into his features. Spyke started to run closer to where I was standing, but the damn robot fired more gunk and stopped him in his tracks. The monster had snagged one member of each team... or two members of one team, as it was that day.

It probably says something about me that it took a tragedy like this - that I'm stupid, or dense, or I just ain't very broad-minded or whatever - but I think seeing Fred and Evan captured side by side like that was one of the first things that really drove it home to me: we mutants had to watch each other's backs. If the humans didn't accept us (and some never would), then all we could do was turn to each other, stick together. Why did we have to fight amongst ourselves all the time? God! Maybe if somebody could have taken Magneto and his Nazi-esque ideals outta the picture...

Right after they got caught, I finally noticed the police had shown up and were trying to revive Storm. The cops backed away as she stood, eyes glowing purest white, and sent a devastating tornado toward the machine, severing its right arm at the elbow. That attack might have destroyed it completely and saved us a lot of trouble, but when the scrap heap noticed that it was actually in danger, it activated booster rockets in its legs, carrying it up and over the whirlwind... and landing right in front of Kitty and I.

 _"LOOK OUT!"_  she shouted. If that wasn't an exercise in futility, I don't know what would be; we barely had time to tense our muscles before it hit the ground, the shockwave sending us reeling backward. I scrambled to my hands and knees frantically and looked up, only to see a giant globule of lime Jell-o hurtling toward me.

"Oh  _shi-!"_

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XIV


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so here's where I FINALLY start to deviate from the original script a little more, as promised. Also, you might want to watch out for the rapidly-switching vantage points in this chapter; with Rogue momentarily out of commission, I had to turn to other sources. Sorry!

••••••••••••••••••QS•••••••••••••••••

Geez Louise, it's good to be on the winning side. I mean, the grossly-misunderstood victors are still better than the losers, right? Right. Of course I'm right - after all, I'm me. I don't have time to be wrong.

Not that I would've picked this particular side above all others; my father is not a man I would follow halfway down the block, much less the ends of the earth. I preferred standing on the skyscraper with him over being down there with the puny X-Twerps, though.

You've got to understand my position; fight on the winning side, or stick with my Brotherhood posse only to be flattened by a raging Sentinel? Thanks, but no thanks.

Of course, I did feel a pang when I saw Blob encased in the "ooblek"... the big dumb tub o' lard actually meant something to me, I guess. Spyke and his fellow dweebs weren't important, but I still sighed at them being caught like gnats in amber. Oh, for one last face-off against my old rival...

"Not yet."

My eyes snapped up at my father's words; he was brushing military choppers away like so many crumbs. I smiled wickedly. See, that's exactly what I mean; he might be a little power-mad, but not without good reason, right? Right.

Then there was an explosion from the streets. I glanced down to see the Sentinel stagger into the side of a building, showering glass from broken windows onto the sidewalk. Y'know, this would make a kickass movie...

Actually, I was seriously tossing around the idea of running to a cinema for some popcorn - wouldn't take me long, five, maybe ten seconds - when suddenly I felt quite peculiar. Somehow, I was super heavy, as if my legs were made of lead and my arms were barbells, yet light as helium at the same time. How much sense does  _that_  make? I realized I was suspended in midair, and let out a cry of fear and frustration. My supersonic speed's no good if I can't touch anything, right? Right.

Then I fell onto my face. A low voice that chilled my blood said, "Hello, Father."

Crap. Crap crap  _crap_  crap CRAP. Crap on a crap cracker.

It was not the best time to be a Maximoff.

••••••••••••••••••WITCH••••••••••••••••••

" _WANDA!_  Not now!"

Bastard. He dared speak to me, he thought he had the right. He had to know he didn't –  _why_  he didn't. And I was going to tell him.

"You locked me away."

"You gave me no choice!" A shake of his head. "You couldn't control your anger!"

"Yeah? You haven't seen me angry... until  _NOW!"_

It felt so good... knowing he was powerless. Knowing my hex rooted him to the spot, defenseless, vulnerable, impotent. So foolish... relied too heavily on magnetic forces to move. Lazy. And now I had him. I had the bastard, and he knew it.

"Wanda, release my powers! You don't know what you're doing!"

The Sentinel appeared behind him, but it didn't matter. I could care less... I was having too much fun. Yes, I enjoyed hearing him plead with me, watching him squirm... watching him beg the way I begged that day. Retribution. Justice. Vengeance. All mine.

The robot shot at him, and he summoned enough willpower to hide like the vermin he is. I began to grin, but then  _she_  showed up. Stupid nuisance... just because she thought she was in charge, she was trying to take my revenge away from me.

"Stay  _out_  of this!" I waved the helicopter away with my powers, but that was a mistake; I had to release the bastard to do it.

Sentinel fired missiles at him; he sent them back, blew open its chest. Then it started to fall on us. It didn't take much for me to avoid it, but... not everyone was so fortunate.

Though I wish I could've done it with my own fingers, at least I got to see him die. He died! The Sentinel he'd tried to destroy fell on him and he died by his own hand. Died, _died, DIED!_  That was the single happiest moment in my life.

But the robot blew up, knocked me off the rooftop. Maybe I was a little scared, but he was dead... my life felt complete. I'd achieved my only goal, and I had no regrets.

I'm still glad Nightcrawler saved me, though. Never thanked him... but I'm grateful. He knows. Or he should. I hope he does.

Avalanche, Shadowcat, Storm and Jean were there when we landed. Oh, and Toad; ugh, what a disgusting blight. Always chasing after me... like I care. Then the Velocity showed up.

"Get in! Now!"

"But Professor, what about the others?" Jean whined. Whiner.

"We'll just have to come back for them.  _Move it!"_

"He's right," Storm said resignedly. "Everybody onboard!"

Staring out the window of the Velocity at the wreckage atop that skyscraper, I felt like I was really alive. Gone. He was gone forever, and I was finally free. Free of his ever-watchful eye, free of his stupid delusions of grandeur, free of his fatherly opinions... free of the need for revenge. Now I could move on, experience life. Blessed Be! I'd have to thank Agatha Harkness for helping me master myself, for giving me this opportunity. Deliverance never tasted so good.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"They're here."

Scott looked up at me for a moment before realising the faint noise reaching his ears was an approaching helicopter.

"You ready for the confrontation?"

"Yeah," he said heavily as he stood, stretching his arms. "I'm ready. Are you?"

That was a question I couldn't answer lightly. I owed her much - my new life and powers, which I were just beginning to enjoy, for one - but I also owed her a shiv between the eyes for everything I'd had to endure along the way. Singlehandedly, for better or worse, she'd changed me forever.

However, next to the fact that she'd tried to destroy me twice in one week, my course was clear.

"I am."

••••••••••••••••••NC••••••••••••••••••

Despite the fact that I feel uncomfortable speaking about things that I would deem best left to other, more directly-involved parties, I am humbly obligated to relate this part of the story for you. Rogue was not there, and many of the others said the memories were too painful to put into words... if they indeed recalled the incident at all. They seem to think that just because I have a sense of humour, I don't have any feelings! Well, let me set the record straight,  _Mein Freunden_... that day was really lousy, and I know it as well as they do. However, I will do my very best to present the facts objectively, just as they occurred.

"Vhat happened?" I whispered.

"What about - where are the students?" Jean said, pressing her nose to the window and scanning the ground below.

"Oh,  _no_ ," Kitty gasped.

The Velocity had barely touched down when the three of us ran toward the ruins of the once-proud Institute.  _Mein Gott_ , it was horrible. In less than two years, I had come to think of that mansion as home, a sanctuary away from the cold, ignorant, unforgiving public. It was there I had found friends for the first time, acceptance... and a little doodad to circumvent my appearance, which was just the thing I'd needed at that age.

And now it was all gone. I sank to my knees, looking at the empty air where my room had once been.

 _"Dammit!"_   _Ja,_  I swore a lot in those days. It's a sin that I've since made peace with, and I would rather say I never did such things, but I cannot lie to you about it... that would be equally wrong.

"I don't see them." Jean cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted as the others disembarked the helicopter. "Bobby! Amara!"

"Over here!"

As distressing as the sight of the mansion was, we all breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the younger students walking out of the woods, a little battered but largely in good health. Material possessions are much easier to replace than life, Ja?

"We're alright," Bobby said before Scott knocked him to the side, stalking toward us with grim purpose. Risty wasn't far behind him, and her facial features matched his scowl for scowl.

Jean beamed and ran to him. "Oh, Scott!" she cried, throwing her arms around his shoulders. Even back then, those two... "What happened? How did you guys survive?"

But he shoved her aside and kept moving. Thinking back on it now, that's very unlike him, but he did have other things weighing heavily on his mind.

"Scott got us into the Cerebro room just in time," Sam said, watching our leader's back with renewed and deepened respect. "It held up... barely."

We X-Men see many peculiar things: beings of immense, unfathomable power, other galaxies, ancient, isolated civilizations... but at the time, this topped them all.

Scott grabbed Professor Xavier by the lapels and jerked him from his wheelchair, shouting, "It was  _you,_  you scumbucket!  _YOU did this!"_

He threw him to the ground, reaching for the side of his visor. I couldn't let him do such a thing, no matter the circumstances... which didn't exactly point to "sane action". Bobby and I latched onto his arms to prevent him from doing anything foolhardy.

But all eyes were on Scott and the Professor at that moment, and mostly on Scott; he was the one blowing a gasket. No one noticed the throwing star until it had already sailed true, finding its mark in Xavier's neck. He struggled to right himself, a confused expression barely beginning to form before he slumped over onto the lawn.

" _Risty!"_  Kitty gasped. "What-"

"Get up, bitch!" she screamed. "Get up and  _FACE ME,_  you fucking disappointment!"

Everyone but Scott, Bobby and I advanced on her, fists balling, teeth grinding. She only noticed when they blocked her view of the Professor. Her fury did not abate in the slightest as she barked, "Eh? What the hell's got in  _your_  knickers?"

" _WHAT THE-!"_  Bobby shouted. We turned, and shared in his wonder.

Why was my mother lying in the grass, bleeding quietly from a shuriken wound?

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"She's not dead," Lance reported tonelessly, standing up and wiping Mystique's blood on his spandex. "Just out. Probably from the shock."

"Omigod," Kitty blasphemed for the innumerable time. No one had thought any less of her when she vomited on the charred Institute lawn. "Omigod, omigod, omi _god!"_

"She destroyed everything," Scott said, his voice quaking with barely-checked rage. "We saw it on the security replay. She locked the rookies in and set the mansion to detonate."

"How long has she been impersonating Xavier?" Storm spat at Lance. "Where is he?"

"Hey, look, I don't know," he growled back, stepping toward her. "Mystique only told us he was 'somewhere safe', whatever the hell that means."

"He's right," Jean said quietly, lowering her hands from her temples. "The Brotherhood was in on the plan, but it looks like Mystique wanted to keep all the details to herself."

"Probe Mystique's mind!" Scott demanded.

"I can't," Jean replied weakly. "She's blocking me somehow... or else I'm not strong enough."

"The genetic enhancement chamber," Risty muttered.

"The who-da-whatty?" Tabitha asked.

"Her mutant abilities have been advanced ever since Asteroid M," she continued, glaring at Mystique's unconscious form. "Mostly her mind - it's a bit dodgier, now. That's why neither the Professor nor Jean ever noticed her at the- at the mansion..."

She trailed off, looking up and across the lawns. As the rest of us stopped focusing on her words, we heard it, as well: chopper blades... and sirens.

"Shit," Toad hissed, "the fuzz!"

Local law enforcement was the least of our worries; America's armed forces had responded to the explosion, as well. There were too many vehicles to count, and before we could decide on a course of action, we were grossly outnumbered.

" _FREEZE!"_  an officer barked, racing from his car and drawing a pistol.

"No problemo," Bobby said, creating an icy patch in front of the advancing men; their footing failed them instantly.

Well, I know I was supposed to relate these unfortunate events as accurately as possible, but truth be told, I have no idea what happened in that next minute or so. Police cars were careening around the lawns, mutant-induced explosions were destroying tires, I was trying to escape with my prehensile tail intact... it was madness. Ah, but when I noticed two of the policemen had shoved Jean into the rear of an empty squad car, I acted.

Grand theft auto is not something I'm particularly proud of, but I do believe it was justified under the circumstances.

Kitty, noticing I had secured our escape route, made a beeline for us, phasing through two officers and the door of the car to sit next to Jean in the back seat. I was relieved to see Ororo rescuing Scott from a tight spot, taking to the air and narrowly eluding gunfire. The majority of the other students (and non-students) had fled one way or another, and the only other mutants still on the grounds were Bobby and Risty, fighting side by side to keep the infantrymen from getting any closer. I barreled through their ranks, pulling up beside our two  _Kameraden_  and flinging the passenger door open, which they piled into gratefully. That must be what it's like to be Schwarzenegger ...

Our problems were not over; the police were riding our bumper, and a roadblock was set up in the road ahead. Straining, Jean was just able to lift us into the air, and we coasted metres above their baffled heads.

Scant seconds after we had landed on a dirt lane several miles away, Jean gasped and said, "Scott?"

"What, what is it?" Kitty demanded.

"It's... it's Scott," she stammered. "He wants us to meet at Lookout Point... and he wants me to pass the message along to anybody I can reach."

"How's he talking to you?" Bobby asked, squirming under Risty's weight. To her credit, she was doing her best to brace herself upward, but there's only so much you can do in a cramped squad car.

"I... I don't know," she whispered. "Ever since that whole thing last Fall when my telekinesis went berserk, I've been able to hear his thoughts easier..."

A moment later, the insignia on Risty's left shoulder vibrated, giving off a low hum. " _Oi!"_

"That's just the emergency communicator," I said. The brief glance at her nearly caused me to obliterate a fire hydrant. Did I mention I'd had very little practice driving at that point? There hadn't been enough opportunities after that beach excursion-turned-wrestling match the previous year... "They didn't tell you it vas recently built in as a precaution?"

"Oh, yes... yes, of course..." She relaxed visibly and let out a nervous laugh that turned into a yelp when a voice drifted out of her shoulder.

"-repeat, this is Storm calling the X-Men!" Ororo's muffled voice crackled and sputtered; as I said, Beast had only thought of it a month or so prior, and there just hadn't been enough opportunities to test it. "Do you read?"

"Copy," Jean said, touching her own shoulderpad. "This is, uhh, Marvel Girl. What's your status?"

In the rearview mirror, I could see Kitty raise her eyebrows and mouth, " _Marvel Girl?"_  I can only assume she invented this codename on the spot, and it was a smart move; we had to make sure we didn't use our given names in case Big Brother had found a way to eavesdrop.

"Oh, thank God." A few moments of muffled sighs of relief passed before the voice continued. "I have Cyclops with me. We're seeking temporary shelter... have yet to find a suitable location."

"Hey, 'Marvel Girl'." Scott's voice came through Jean's X a little quieter than Ororo's, but the slight undercurrent of amusement was still plain as the crimson in her cheeks. "Where'd you come up with that one?"

"Hey, Sc- um, Cyke," she replied, blushing brighter at her near-miss. "Are you alright?"

"We're fine... no broken bones or anything. You?"

"Yeah, as well as can be expected."

"Are any more with you?" Storm asked.

"Shadowcat, Nightcrawler, Iceman and Lazarus are here," she said, glancing around at us.

"Good, good... that's the rest of the core team accounted for, at least. Cyclops was able to reach you?"

"Um... yes. The rendezvous?"

"Affirmative. Tonight, after sunset. Be there as early as you can, and see if you can locate any of the other new recruits. And, above all else... try not to attract any unwanted attention."

"Of course not," Kitty replied indignantly.

"Hang in there, guys," Scott said. "We'll get through this. See you soon."

"Storm out."

We drove on, immersed in contemplative silence for a few seconds before I felt the need to break it. "Ah, so... I'm thinking ve should probably get rid of this police car."

"Probably a good idea," Bobby agreed.

"But what are we gonna do?" Kitty hissed. "We can't go walking around like this! Bobby's clothes are ripped to shreds, and cool as it is, our battle gear makes us look like we got lost on the way to a Star Trek convention!"

"You've a point," Risty moaned, looking at the tears in her uniform. "And I'm both combined. We stand out a touch. So we send Bobby to acquire some new clothes, then?"

"How? I don't have any money."

"Neither do I," I put in glumly. "Not that I ever do."

"I've got a little," Bobby said, twisting around for his wallet (and smashing Risty's face into the windshield). "Uhm, twenty, thirty... damn. Forty-two bucks for all five of us won't go that far."

"Flea market it is," Kitty sighed, trendy-girl sensibilities chafing at the concept of wearing hand-me-downs.

"Ehrm, Bovvy," Risty began. "Coulzhyou mayve...?"

"There's no time for this," Jean said. "We have to get to Lookout Point. We'll worry about blending in later; for now, the meeting."

"Of course," I sighed. "So... ditching the 'hot ride'?"

At Jean's insistence, I carefully guided it through a densely-wooded area into a small clearing, where we left it for the poor Bayville P.D. to find someday. From there, we proceeded to trudge toward Lookout Point on foot, Jean levitating us every now and then to strange locations to throw off any huntsmen or canines they might enlist to track us, and when she wasn't doing that, she was reaching out with her mind, searching for the younger students... and coming up dry. Being on the lam is not fun, I assure you.

Just after we quickly darted across a momentarily-empty street and into the trees on the other side, Risty abruptly skidded to a halt. "Hang on..."

We all turned. "Yeah?" Bobby said.

"What- I didn't see... and with all the confusion, there was no time to think, I didn't realise... how could I have forgotten?"

After a few seconds went by and she didn't continue, Kitty took a hesitant step toward her. "What's up, Lazarus?"

"You guys..." She glanced around at all of us, hazel eyes betraying her mounting dread. "Please - where... where's Rogue?"

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XV


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. After thousands of mugs of chai, many sleepless nights of blood, sweat and tears, countless mixed beverages, pounding the pavement, Prozac overdoses, exorcising entire planets of radioactive waste-producing jellyfish creatures, tedious municipal court hearings, kidnappings, donations at the plasma bank... okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating (just a spot). Anyway, have fun.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"It's a nice night," Kurt said humourlessly.

"Nothing nice about it," I sniffled. "It's awful." Honestly, the last thing I wanted at the moment was to talk to anyone. I'd spent the better part of an hour howling and ranting like a lunatic, demanding outrageous things of my teammates and asking questions of varying validity, hurling unfair accusations and apologising as quickly. I suppose I was a pain in the arse in hindsight, and they probably only tolerated me because they understood; in fact, Kitty wept with me for a while before I drove her away, as well. After that, I'd been largely silent and withdrawn... until now. I'd wager they drew straws to see which unlucky sod would have a go at cheering up the blubbering Briton, and poor Kurt lost.

"You're right... this sucks  _Kugeln."_ He sat next to me on the bonnet of my Escort (which I was pleasantly surprised to find had been sitting there, undisturbed, all afternoon and evening - at least I had avoided the attentions of vandals and thieves!), resting an arm against one knee and gazing up at the clouds obscuring the moon; Jean and Kitty were doing the same some distance away, leaning against Lance's jeep. Bobby was too lost in thought and rage to notice other people, and he kept pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. After a few minutes of pensive quietude, Kurt cleared his throat.

"Listen, I know this probably won't mean a heck of a lot, but... I'm sorry, Risty. It vas all so crazy! They got Beast, even, and... oh, I vish I could have saved her somehow, but-"

"No, no, it's not your fault," I whispered, biting the edge of my glove. "This is so unreal, so horrible. Why her? Anybody but Rogue, dammit! I  _hate_  this!"

"I know."

"I- I should've been there, I... it..."

A harsh laugh. "Vell, ve all know vhy you veren't."

That dried me up pretty quick. There's nothing quite like unbridled hatred to erase a moment of weakness, is there? "She will pay. I swear it. I'll cut out her gall bladder, dip it in salt and acid and leave it for the rats in the sewers to feast on."

"Uhh, sounds tasty," Kurt said uneasily. "Maybe vith a vinaigrette, or some bacon bits?"

"We've got to get her back, Kurt. We have to try, if we don't, I'll-"

"Hey, no sveat," he said, laughing unconvincingly. "Ve're the X-Men, remember?"

For some reason, I couldn't cry anymore. It was all I wanted to do - to climb into my car and hide in the back seat, weeping and screaming into the cushions. But I was out of tears. It was time for action; time to grind Mystique to a squishy paste and rescue my best mate from the government's clutches. I nodded, and Kurt leaned back against the windscreen as Jean and Kitty joined us.

"Are you okay?" Jean asked tentatively.

"Better," I said truthfully - the fact that I wasn't the only one upset over this did help, if only marginally. "I don't think I'll be 'okay' until we emancipate our friends."

"Amen to that." Kurt pulled at his hair. "Vhy do our lives have to be fraught vith danger and sadness?"

A weak grin broke out on my face as I wiped my eyes. "We lost a bet?"

"Or our parents did." He laughed in spite of himself, then sighed deeply. "Speaking of 'parents'..."

"Oh, no." I couldn't believe I'd overlooked this before! My hands automatically went to my mouth, then to Nightcrawler's arm. "Kurt, I... I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, it-"

"Easy, easy," he chuckled quietly. "That shape-shifting  _Schlampe_  has been no soccer mom to me. And... you have every reason to vant her dead. It's not like she hasn't already tried to bump you off herself."

To be honest, I was surprised at my own answer - mostly because it was the truth, not just empty words. "You misunderstand me," I whispered. "I don't really want her dead, I... I just..."

"You vant her to understand vhat she's done... enlighten her that her actions affect other people."

I blinked. "Yes, that's it exactly." Why did his teammates continuously chide this boy for being a skiver and a troublemaker? That moment showed more insight than I can say for ninety-nine per-cent of the human race, that's for sure. "She doesn't seem to think she's ever done anything wrong. Trust me."

"Yeah," Kitty said with a slight laugh. "I'd believe you even if you  _hadn't_  been scuba diving in her brain for months and months."

If only our situation weren't so bleak, that might have had us rolling. There was a spurt of laughter, but the unsettling way it was just sort've...  _extinguished_  brought us back to the topic.

"Actually, Kurt," I began hesitantly, idly watching Bobby pace, "there is one thing she always hated herself for. I'm not sure if it's any consolation - or if it should be - but... she really wanted to be there for you. And Rogue."

Kurt nodded bitterly. "Oh  _ja,_  sure she did. Fat lot of good it does me now."

"Whoa, wait a second," Kitty said, looking at me curiously. "What was that last part?"

"Hmm?"

A faint rustling brought us all whirling about, and Bobby blasted a tree with ice in a fierce show of bravado.

"Hey,  _chill,"_  Scott quipped, holding up his hands as he and Storm walked forward, ducking under a frozen branch. "It's just us."

"Sorry," Bobby said sheepishly. "It just seems like the whole country is out hunting mutants."

"Get used to it." A blue-skinned, leather-clad figure walked out of the underbrush, striding proudly and flanked by Avalanche, Toad and The Scarlet Witch.

"Mystique!" Scott spat, stalking forward. "We want  _answers!"_

"When I'm ready."

"When  _we're_ ready," I growled, holding a kunai delicately between thumb and index finger. She instinctively touched the bandage on her neck, then tried to pretend she hadn't done so. "That's right... who's the master now?"

"Shut up," she hissed, glaring at me with those bright yellow demon-eyes. "I'll deal with you later. When it's more convenient."

"Convenience isn't a luxury we have anymore!" Scott growled, reaching for his visor again. "I'd like to thank you for that personally!"

 _"ENOUGH!"_  Kitty shouted. "Let's just hear what she has to say, okay?  _Then_  Scott can burn a hole through her abdomen."

When Cyclops finally lowered his hand, Mystique and her dwindling Brotherhood heaved a sigh of relief. "That's better," the metamorph muttered, moving her shoulders as if to shrug off a disease. "Now listen. I want you all to know that I had nothing to do with Magneto's plan to expose our little secret to the world... shortsighted fool. Nevertheless, the game has changed. It's a new world out there, and we're going to need new leadership. If nothing else, this public reaction proves that Xavier was wrong; humans and mutants can _not_  live together in peace. Therefore-"

"Save it," Scott spat. "You didn't come here to run for office."

"Why  _are_  you here, Mystique?" Jean insisted. "What is it you want from us?"

"The same thing you want. The military has taken a valuable member of my team. I want him back." She sighed dejectedly, and for the first time since I'd known her (and boy, did I know her!), her appearance carried the slightest hint of fragility. "The problem is, I have no idea where to start looking."

"Maybe I do."

"Geez," Kurt wailed as a grizzled man with a patch over his left eye entered the clearing, "is there  _anyone_  that doesn't know about this 'secret' meeting?"

"Who are you?" Mystique demanded fiercely. "What do you want?"

"Nick Fury, agent of SHIELD. I've been tracking you for hours."

"Shield?" Kurt hissed to us.

"Logan mentioned it before," Scott whispered back. "It's kinda like a super-CIA."

"I strongly suggest you forget where you found us." Mystique snapped her fingers, which was obviously a pre-arranged signal for her Brotherhood henchmen to loom threateningly in front of her opponent. The only problem was, Fury had the same plan, and when  _he_  snapped his fingers, dozens upon dozens of SHIELD agents crawled out of the woodwork, rifles trained on our hearts.

"Well, we've got them cornered, now," I whispered. "Good show, Raven." Her only response was a catlike hiss.

After we spent a few moments sweating profusely, Agent Fury snapped again and the men lowered their rifles. He flicked the toothpick hanging from his mouth into the bushes, then looked up at us coolly. "That's just to prove a point; if I'd wanted to capture you, you'd be captured."

"Then what  _do_  you want of us?" Storm asked, stepping forward.

"To give you this." He reached for the inner pocket of his bomber jacket, withdrawing a PDA. "It contains maps and schematics of the military base where they're holding your friends. I think you'll find it useful."

Mystique scrutinized him closely, folding her arms as Storm hesitantly took the device. "And why exactly are you being so helpful?"

A small smile briefly formed on his lips. "Let's just say I've... got my reasons. Look, I can't get involved officially, but I can at least point you in the right direction. Good luck."

With those cryptic parting words, he and his men turned and exited stage right. Avalanche ran forward into the bushes, but wasn't long in his search. "They're gone. Think we can trust 'em?"

"I'm not sure," Jean said, walking forward. "I sensed he was telling the truth."

"Good enough for me," Storm sighed. "Alright then, it looks like we're back in business. We'll split up into teams: Scott, you and Jean-"

" _I'll_  take that," Mystique growled, snatching the PDA from her grasp, "and  _I'll_  decide how we handle this."

"What gives  _you_  the right?" As she spoke, the clouds began to grow yet darker, and a streak of lightning sundered the sky.

"I told you before to  _BACK OFF!"_

"Storm, no!" Jean said desperately. "Remember the Professor!"

When the pearly glow in Storm's eyes slowly receded, we all relaxed - especially Mystique.

"Wise council," the blue wench muttered, then walked to the center of our ragtag group. "Alright... our first priority is Magneto. We need to know if he really perished under that Sentinel; knowing Eric, I highly doubt it. Toad, I want you to go to New York and find out what you can."

"I'm going, too." Wanda stalked forward, jaw set, eyes feral. "I must be sure."

"I knew it!" Words can't quite capture the lovesick look on Toad's face... or the disgust on Wanda's. "You can't stay away from me, can you? It's my cologne."

_"Insect."_

"Fine, you'll both go." Mystique shook her head briefly. "The rest of us will use Fury's schematics to plan a rescue op- operation. Excuse me," she said as she turned, "but what exactly is so amusing?"

"You are. You're quite a laugh." And I did so - a bit hysterically, I'm sure - as I said that. "Standing there and flinging orders about. Raven-bloody-Darkholme, Empress of Mutants. How very... gelastic."

"I thought I told you to pipe down," she spat.

 _'Risty,'_  Jean's voice sounded in my skull as she locked my arm with her mental powers,  _'don't. Now is... a bad time.'_  I'm grateful to her for stopping me, actually; it was a gut reaction, stupid, pointless. What would we gain if I really were to kill her this time? I let the kunai slip back into its pouch, scowling and grinding my teeth as Mystique stalked toward me.

"Listen now and listen well," she said, voice scarcely higher than a whisper. "Do not tempt me. You were lucky the last time, but all luck runs out eventually. I made you; I can unmake you."

"Does the same go for me?" Kurt asked flatly.

A flash of very real hurt rippled through her features before she composed herself, but her voice remained unsteady. "That is another topic entirely, and it's not what we're here to discuss."

"I'm going to see you pay for this," I hissed hotly. Yes, yes, I know - if only I'd let it drop, the confrontation would've been over and we could go back to helping our friends. I'm a git, alright? "You ruined my life - continuously destroyed all our lives. I won't let you keep using whatever means you please to meet your own self-serving ends."

"At least I  _have_  a sense of purpose." She cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, my insides ran cold. "When the devil are you going to find some direction, Risty?"

Well, that low blow ended it. The irrational pang I felt at her using my father's words - in his own voice - against me caught me completely unawares and snuffed out any further noises. Wholly satisfied with herself, she turned back to the group at large, examining the PDA. "We'll need transportation. Let's see if this Fury was able to provide us with the X-Jet and Velocity's locations."

Storm, Bobby and the Brotherhood crowded around her to stare at the tiny screen. Scott, Jean, Kurt and Kitty remained with me for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Jean asked. "I mean, well, that was pretty harsh of her."

Obviously, Jean knew what was bothering me a bit more intimately than the others, even though she didn't want to let on so. I was far too shaken to resent such a mental intrusion at that moment, however. "The past always returns, doesn't it?" I smiled in a less-than-convincing manner. "I'm fine. Let's get on with this. The sooner we spring our accomplices, the sooner we'll be rid of  _her."_

"I agree with that, at least," Scott mumbled.

"What was all that stuff about direction?" Kitty whispered.

"Never you mind," I whispered. "She certainly knows my emotional soft spots... better than anyone. Look, we're wasting time; let's go."

As I led them over to where the bitch was outlining strategies, I found I really did want to choke the life from her with my bare hands. Bugger what I told Kurt – she  _did_ deserve it. In fact, the only thing that would have pleased me more was to set Rogue free of her prison... which is exactly why I could restrain myself for the nonce. Then Mystique would get hers, and I would be her courier.

The very moment we'd found Rogue.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

"... _iIT!"_

I slumped to the ground, dazed and befuddled. Blinking to get my eyes focused, I saw a man in a tan lab coat hunched over a console, punching in commands - or he had been. Seeing my eyes open, he motioned to some other men, whom were wearing flak jackets and helmets... and carrying nightsticks and pistols. What in the hell was going on?

Glancing at my hands while steadying myself, I noticed hundreds of greenish crystal shards all over the floor. That brought my last conscious moments flooding back.

"Kitty," I gasped hoarsely, which made the men tense. "Storm-!"

"Quickly," the tech guy hissed. One of the soldiers drew a small cylinder from a pocket.

Woozily, I got to my feet, shoving a few errant white bangs out of my face to clear my vision. "Wh... where am I? Who are you?"

His answer was a cloud of mist in my face. I coughed, then lunged for him... before I blacked out.

••••••••••••••••••JUBILEE••••••••••••••••••

"Not far, now."

Okay, so like, Rogue didn't want you guys to worry too much, so she asked me to write up what happened to us. Jubilee has to swoop in and save the day, as usual. Well, here goes nothin'!

"This sucks ass," I whispered. "The mansion is toast, and the flippin' marines are after our hides! What's next, hail, locusts and boils?"

"Who could do this?" Roberto said, kicking a tin can into the disgustingly-green sewer water. "Why would they want to blow up the Institute?"

"Scott said he knew," Sam whispered. "But he and Risty wouldn't tell us."

"Yeah, they just sat there, brooding and sulking," Amara added.

"This junk is enough to make a lass want to give up and go home," Rahne spat, shaking a lump of something (and I'm glad I have no idea what it was) from her shoe.

"What home?" I grumbled.

"C'mon, guys," Ray said weakly. "We're not so bad off." He glanced at the branch in the pipes. "Uhh... this way."

"Oh yeah, it's super great being chased into a smelly sewer," Tabitha hissed, looking around at the dark waterways. "A little paint, a little wallpaper... this place could be downright spooky."

That's when this freaky-looking bald guy dropped down right in front of us. He was skinnier than the anorexic bimbos in Beverly Hills, his face white as a sheet, and his eyes were all dead and creepy.

"Oh, man," Amara squeaked.

"Stop," he droned - and his voice sounded like a flushing toilet. "Who are you? What business brings you here?"

"Uhh, his idea!" Tabitha blurted, pushing Ray forward. "Every bit of it!"

"L-look, Caliban," he sputtered, shifting uneasily, "we're... we're mutants, like you! Up there, we're being hunted like dogs. We... we just need a place to hang for a while."

"I know you are mutants. I always know."

"I- I'm Berserker," he said, offering his hand. "We're from the Xavier Institute." When the crazy dude made no move to shake it, he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"You'll be safe here." He turned and began walking away from us. "Follow me."

And, well, we did. They all look pretty freaky, but I guess that's why they're Morlocks, right? Callisto's got major attitude, Caliban's a total spaz, and the rest aren't exactly what you'd call overly-sociable, but at least they took us in.

Still... they may have opened their home to us, and they fed us and gave us some spare threads, but I got the feeling they were watching us the entire time we were there. They don't seem to trust anybody whose face  _isn't_  scaly or mangled beyond recognition... the same way most people would fear and hate them because their faces  _are._

The lesson woulda come sooner or later. More than anything else, as an X-Man, you learn what it's like to be feared... and hated. We're pariahs to the max. I guess it's better to learn that as soon as possible.

At least the Morlocks didn't eat us or anything.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

The others told me it was about three hours after they broke me out of the hardened goop that I finally came to. After gassing me, the army bozos dumped me unceremoniously in a corner of a glass cell; the first thing I noticed were the airholes drilled in the pane facing the center of the room. Groggily, I sat up, clutching my head and groaning.

"Are you alright, Rogue?" a muffled voice asked me. I glanced over to see Beast's blue face through a thick, transparent wall, concern etched into his furry features.

"Yeah... yeah, I think so." I glanced around, once again blinking to clear my vision. "Where are we, Mr. McCoy?"

"Heaven only knows," he replied glumly. "Though this place is far removed from Shangri-La."

Staring blearily through the layers of glass, I could just make out Spyke on the other side of Beast's cell, walking in circles anxiously. In the center of the room stood the small chamber where robotic arms equipped with laser torches had freed me of the muck; a team of seven commandos was pushing a cart carrying the petrified Blob toward it, now.

"So..." I glanced nervously at the guards, pacing back and forth and toting some pretty heavy artillery. "These guys're the army, right?"

Beast nodded. "Either that, or the NRA has garnered a lot more funding these days."

I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye, and turned to watch another group of soldiers carrying a fiercely-struggling man, wrapped heavily in all sorts of complicated bonds, toward an examination table. I gasped, pressing my face and hands to the glass.

_"Logan!"_

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XVI


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay.
> 
> ...okay. I know, I know. You never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER IN THIS MILLENIUM, expected to see this chapter. It's been 5+ years. YEARS. You'd given up. I'd given up. I shall be completely shocked if any users who added this to Story Alerts are still registered on the site.
> 
> So here's how it happened.
> 
> In order to accurately convey to you the precise level of horrifying evilness, I present to you:
> 
> ~~~ FAN_FACTION (is it fact, or fiction?)
> 
> Jessica X stretched, catlike, scratching her ass and sipping her chai. She wondered where that pesky certificate of live birth had got to for the millionth time that month. Had she searched everywhere? In desperation, it was time to attack the bedroom closet again. Files upon files of old papers to be dug through...
> 
> WHAT ON EARTH IS THIS?
> 
> My goodness – it's a printout of Evolution Of Friends, Chapters 1 through... 18? And semi-detailed notes for future chapter 19 and the eventual conclusion of the series! These bits had been thought lost in the Great Computer Crash of 2007 with only the first sixteen surviving on FFnet! Oh, how blessed is this day; REJOICE THROUGHOUT THE LAND!
> 
> Sprinting to her trusty laptop, she proceeds immediately to reacquaint herself with the long-abandoned yarn and transcribes from hard copy what had originally been typed (haha). Tiny tweaks are made, small flourishes added... and thus, the past returns.
> 
> ~~~ End
> 
> Or something like that. If only I backed up my files more dependably we might not have lost so much time; to readers of both Lark and Cheerless, this is an old refrain. Anyone paying too close attention (damn you) may have already noticed there's a year-long discrepancy there: the last time I updated this story was late 2005, and my old desktop committed suicide in early 2007. Yes, I allowed myself to be distracted for a year and never posted two already completed chapters. I don't mind if you hire hitmen to take me down; it's a perfectly valid reaction. The worst part is, before that stupid machine gave out, I fully intended to go back to it one day, but losing the files... you understand, don't you? PLEASE TELL ME YOU UNDERSTAAAND
> 
> So my intention now is to finish this story once and for all, even if I have to half-kill myself over the next week or so to figure out how I'm going to wrap it up. I even went back and edited the first sixteen if you feel like re-reading; they flow a little cleaner, and I fleshed out one or two parts more (no drastic changes to the plot, though). Expect to see a round dozen new chapters in your future – or more. It shall come to pass, by hook or by crook. And then you'll all love me again, right? Right?
> 
> NEW READERS: Welcome to my long-lost X-Men:Evolution Rogue & Risty epic. Consider yourself EXTREMELY lucky to not have known about this before now, since waiting almost six years for a story to be finished must be hell on earth.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"Set the course for 115 West, 36 North, Sector 015."

Storm nodded helplessly, punching a few commands into the console in front of her. Even though we couldn't see her face, her body language made it plain she resented being forced to place her trust in Mystique. Still, the small errand of nicking our aircraft from the nearby military outpost had gone off rather smoothly, so I guess she could swallow her pride and defer to the changeling for the time being.

"Hey, that's Nevada..." Bobby said from behind the map he was studying. "Area 51."

We all glanced at each other in despair. Everything was falling apart! It was like standing on the sidelines, watching your favourite football team get massacred. Oh sure, Scott, Bobby and I had been absent from the heat of battle where the camera crews were, but how long would it really take for the non-mutants to bridge that mental gap? Jean, Kurt, Kitty, Spyke and Rogue all lived at the mansion, and so did we. And now, adding insult to injury, the government had made it all too plain that they thought of us as aliens... inhuman. It wasn't a very comforting thought.

Even less comfort was in my undeserved seat. The Velocity only had eight chairs, and Kurt had generously given me the one that more rightly belonged to him, opting to crouch on the floor; he said his simian agility and prehensile tail made it fairly easy for him to brace against turbulence and landings, so the seatbelt was better used on me. I felt horrible about taking it from him, but couldn't argue the tail, so there I sat.

Mystique would've had me stay behind, of course - left me cowering in the shrubbery at Lookout Point and praying I wasn't found by a wandering lynch mob. Luckily, Storm, Scott and Jean had enough combined clout that the wench couldn't stand against them on this issue, despite her being "in charge"; I suppose even she must've realised the value of another soldier in this rescue mission beyond her personal need to tie up a loose end.

"We need a strategy," Scott said without preamble. "We can't just go blasting through a military base."

"Why not?" Avalanche asked.

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Lance..."

"Scott's right," Storm said from the front, then turned to her right, a sarcastic tone seeping into her words. "What's our plan, O Great Mystique?"

"I'm glad you asked," she smirked back. "While Jean and the rest of you were recapturing our vessel, I was going over these blueprints. I must hand it to Fury... these are  _quite_ detailed."

"So I'll pin a rose on his nose next time I see him," Kitty said under her breath.

"I will find a way in first," Mystique went on, unfazed, "as I stand the best chance of getting by the guards without detection. Then, I'll find the security centre and see what-"

"Toad to Mystique, come in Mystique!"

She sighed, breaking off from her plotting to speak into the communicator. "What  _is_  it, you worthless puddle of sludge?"

"Uhh, well, maybe you better come pick us up," Todd's nervous digital tones pleaded. "See, we found this news van, and Wanda got the skinny on ol' Chrome Dome, and uh... she ain't too thrilled."

"He's alive." It was a statement, not a question, but Toad still answered.

"Sure looks like it. I mean, it could be some kinda glitch in the video feed, or-"

"Oh, give me that thing!"

"Wanda, baby, you gotta calm-  _yeowtch!_  My sacroiliac..."

"Pietro sailed in and saved Daddy's hide," Wanda's growl carried over the radio. "The slow motion replay was all the proof I need. I'll get them.  _Both_  of them."

"Uhh, look," Toad croaked out (no pun intended), "could you come get us? Me and the cuddle bunny here have had enough alone-time, and uh... she's blowin' up stuff again."

"Sorry, but you're going to have to stay put," Mystique said firmly. "We're already halfway to our destination, and our men may not have the time for us to double back. We'll see you once this mission is complete. Mystique out."

"Aw, man-" But Mystique snapped off her communicator.

"Dammit!" Cyclops hissed, pounding an armrest. "Our problems just seem to keep mounting!"

"It'll be fine, Scott," Jean soothed. "We'll get our friends back,  _then_  worry about Magneto."

"Exactly," Mystique said with a slight nod. "Rescuing our accomplices will require full concentration... but we will most  _certainly_  deal with Magneto."

I'm sure I'm the only one on that helicopter that realised Mystique's anger toward the self-appointed demigod was deeply-rooted in betrayal. I alone knew exactly what she'd felt when Magneto forsook her... cast her off like a used Kleenex. Honestly, I would've felt sorry for her if she hadn't tried to snuff me.

"...then Iceman and Shadowcat will proceed to the main circuit room and cut the power," Mystique was barking. I blinked and sat up a little straighter, trying not to let on my attention had wandered. "That should make extricating our comrades child's play."

A few seconds lapsed in silence as we all mentally prepared for the upcoming jailbreak. This mission was even more desperate than the one I'd missed out on... and it was my chance to make up for lost time. More importantly, my best friend's life and freedom hung in the balance; that was my primary concern. But at the moment, our unwelcome commander was talking again, so I tuned back in.

"...and Lazarus will remain behind with the Velocity to ensure our escape route. Any questions?"

"Just one, luv," I spat, now fully alert. "Have maggots chewed through your brains, or were you already that soft-headed?"

"Excuse me?" she growled slowly.

"I'm not staying on this bloody thing. I'm going in there."

"How dare you question my tactics!"

"And how dare you try and hold me back!" I was shouting now, and if we weren't so very high off the ground, I'd have been on my feet. "My best friend is in there, and I'm going to do everything I can to save her!"

"Well, now I feel all warm and fuzzy," she mocked. "However, sentiment like that will make no difference to the United States Armed Forces! Perhaps  _you_  have other priorities, but  _I_  want to reclaim my lost team member, so this plan must be executed without error!"

"Well, now you're just lying to yourself," I retorted. "You know who and what I am, and somehow you think I've missed the little detail that you're not  _really_  as concerned about Mr. Dukes as you'd like us to think!"

"Silence!" she snapped violently.

"What are you talking about?" Jean said frantically, looking between us. Indeed, everyone in the helicopter was deathly still, save Raven and I.

"This is why I should've finished the job that night," she went on, unconsciously clutching the spot on her leg where a scar from said encounter undoubtedly lay - I felt a tinge of satisfaction at that. "You are a liability I cannot afford. Once this is over-"

"You'll what? Kill me? Again? You'll keep killing me until I stay that way?" She'd done this to me earlier that night, and now it was my turn - two can play the Achilles' Heel game. "And then what? She'll attend my funeral, and you'll have to witness the tears roll down her cheeks from afar, perched in some tree? Yes, you'll have no other choice but to sit and watch, knowing you did that to her, that she'll never be the same again! All because I've inside info on what your favourite television programme is, and that's just unacceptable!"

"Shut  _up,_  damn you!" she hissed, her ferocity beginning to mingle with panic and fear.

"Your actions have consequences, Raven! You can't just-"

Only the quickness of my hands saved my trachea from being bruised mightily by Mystique's boot sole. I knew it would come to blows eventually if I kept it up - it's her primary way of dealing with unwanted problems - but it was worth it to see her out of sorts.

However, I didn't expect everyone in the Velocity to be on their feet, hands at various states of battle-readiness; Bobby, Kurt and Storm already had their arms locked around Mystique's, and Scott's hand was at his visor. Lance just stood there, dumbfounded and unsure of what to do.

"Why can't I be rid of you?" she managed, her words barely intelligible through that feral growl. "You keep coming back, like a tick getting its head torn off!"

"You had your chance with her!" I screamed. "And you  _blew_  it!"

"By God, I'll gut you like a-"

"ENOUGH!" Jean shouted, painfully closing our mouths with her telekinesis - I could feel my teeth jarring. "Just... just stop it!"

"Hng shnik nyur frrrght," Mystique persisted.

"Hhnd hllk t' snhhh yhh chrhhhng," I riposted. I'm positive I meant "I'd like to see you try", but I can't tell you with absolute certainty what Mystique said to begin with.

Sensing movement, I glanced around at the others more carefully. Scott had backed up a step, ready to loose an optic blast, lips the thinnest of lines. Bobby's entire body had taken on an icy sheen. Kitty's hands were on my shoulders (which I felt more than saw, as she was behind me). Jean was dropping her hands with a sigh, and I felt my mouth fly open once the pressure was released. Kurt and Storm were still restraining Mystique, a look of bitter resignation in their features; Storm's eyes were glowing faintly.

"You'd better rethink the way you threaten a member of my team," Scott said quietly.

"I  _put_  her on the team," Mystique growled, rubbing her now-released jaw.

"Well, dumb move on your part," Kitty whispered, "'cause she's here to stay."

There are no words to accurately describe how overwhelmingly great it feels to know that no matter what the so-called "boss" may decree, your teammates are fully in your corner, ready to put their own necks on the line to keep you in their little renegade band. Christ, I could've snogged Scott and Kitty then and there, given the chance!

"And I'm to believe Xavier means nothing to any of you?" A smirk of triumph stretched at her lips when my teammates shifted uneasily, but it dissipated instantly when she noticed Scott stood his ground, fingers still poised at his temple.

"We'll find him with or without your help," he uttered darkly. "If you so much as  _look_  at Risty wrong again, it'll be without."

"I- but- you  _can't_ -"

"Check, luv," I whispered to the outraged, sputtering Raven, poorly suppressing an honest-to-goodness beam straining to break out all over my face. "And mate, I believe."

She was quite docile for the remainder of our voyage.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

"What's your name, son?"

Even from my vantage point, I could see Wolverine's savage grin. "Jerry Lewis."

The hour since they'd brought Logan in had been like being tortured from the inside. Those army bums were keeping such a close eye on him and us that I didn't dare try to say "hi" - they might gas me again or something. Still, at least I knew Logan was alright; well, as alright as you can be when you're a P.O.W..

After a few anxious minutes of watching him growl at the guards patrolling around him, I'd resigned myself to huddling in a corner of my cage, lamenting my situation and worrying about the others. Of course, Lazarus and her New Mutant Commandos were safe and sound at the mansion, but... what about Scott? Where'd he run off to? And if the rest of my team hadn't been captured like me during the Sentinel battle...

More than any of that, my mind kept coming back to Risty. No matter how hard I tried to rationalize it, to make myself understand that it was out of my hands, I still felt like there was something more I could've done to keep her from being thrown out. Why did it have to go down that way? I mean, after being locked up by the feds, I was thankful she hadn't been caught, too, but I still felt like she'd been cheated; once she'd moved in with us and her initial reservations faded away, she wanted so badly to be an X-Man... like she thought it was where she really belonged.

The way I'd last seen her haunted me worst of all. As vividly as if it were happening all over again, I could picture the despondence etched into her features, the mortal hurt in her hazel eyes, her teeth digging into her lip, the Professor's cold, uncompromising stare...

But the interrogation that suddenly began a few minutes ago had mercifully distracted me from those painful thoughts.

"Oh, a funny man, eh?" The general haughtily turned to face the mutant he was grilling; I bet he wouldn't have been so cocky if Logan weren't strapped securely to that examination table. "Well, 'Jerry', you wanna be reunited with Dino tonight?"

Really, I had no clue what they were talking about, but I noticed Beast shaking his head in disgust as if the man were dissin' somebody's mama.

"I'd like ta see you try," Logan laughed.

"Where are you from?"

"Never-Never Land."

A nearby guard struck Logan in the face with the butt of his rifle. He winced, but betrayed no other outward reaction; I could hear a gasp from Beast and Spyke that echoed mine.

"Who are you? Who are you working for?"

"What's it to ya, bub?"

The official stalked over and leaned in menacingly. "Who was behind that robot? Did you build it? I want  _answers!"_  He punctuated the last word by pounding the table, which prompted Wolverine to roar with berserker rage, straining at his bonds. Two guards stepped forward, withdrawing Tasers from their belts.

"You better start talking, son."

Logan was still snarling. "Okay, 'pops'. Whaddaya wanna know?"

"Did you build that machine?"

"Sure. I always whip up extra-complicated gadgets ta kick my own ass for me. What kinda moron are y-  _AAARGH!"_

 _"NO!"_  I shrieked, pounding on the glass. The guard lowered his Taser and grinned sadistically; Logan thrashed around bloodthirstily, the table wobbling dangerously from his efforts. I could hear the general's next words, but another soldier posted at my cell now blocked my view, his cautionary glare telling me to stay out of it.

"Let's try this again..."

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"Scott?"

He glanced over at me. "Yeah?"

"I..." Oh, how to say what I wanted to say? I fancied myself a fair linguist - I could mince words with the best of them - but this skill always seemed to evaporate when it was most needed, and now was no exception. "Well, I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me back there. I mean, with the Professor missing and all, you really-"

"Anytime, Lazarus." Our leader sighed, leaning against the Velocity's outer hull. "I just wish I hadn't been blowing smoke."

I could feel my face falling. "Wh... what?"

"How are we supposed to find the Prof without her?" His teeth began to grind together in that trademark Cyclops show of frustration. "He could be anywhere in the world... or _off_  the world, even, knowing  _her."_

"True enough," I gusted, relieved that the empty words he was referring to weren't the "don't touch Risty or else" bit. "But we will. There'll have to be some clues lying about, or an accomplice we can torture."

I made the mistake of cracking my knuckles at that exact moment - I swear, it was merely a coincidence - and he chuckled quietly. "You're looking forward to that, aren't you?"

 _"Oi!"_  I immediately dropped my hands. "I'm not  _that_  savage!"

He just laughed harder, and caught me up in it, too. Not that I was swooning over him or anything - there was a lengthy queue ahead of me, at any rate - but I was certainly beginning to truly glimpse what Rogue saw in Scott Summers. If the world were made up of people as decent and noble as he, perhaps we could at last achieve that Utopian society Xavier always spoke of.

"If you two are through giggling like idiots," Lance chided as he walked up to us, "we need to move in closer."

"Keep your shirt on, Ava-Lance," Scott shot back. "She can't possibly have deactivated the perimeter security yet." In contrast to his words, he stomped down the rocky hill, and Lance and I followed.

"So..." When I caught the discomfort in his voice, I realised with a start that I'd never really talked to Lance one-on-one before. "Hi."

"Oh, don't be so formal," I murmured. "I lived with you for long enough, didn't I?"

"What? Oh, right," he whispered. "The Mystique thing."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, that  _thing."_

"Yeah, can't say I envy you; she's probably the last person I'd want to be joined at the brain with."

"What about Todd?"

He had to think about that for a minute. "Okay, you got a point."

About then, we reached the ridges behind which the others were crouched, staring at the chain link fence with equal anticipation and dread.

"Risty, you're with us," Kitty whispered. I shrugged and squatted next to her, Jean and Bobby, watching Scott and Lance join Kurt behind another outcropping further ahead.

"So what did you mean earlier?" Jean whispered. When no one answered, she coughed. "Risty!"

"Eh?" I said, blinking.

"What did you mean earlier?"

"By what?"

"That stuff about Mystique not really wanting to save Freddy."

"She doesn't," I snorted. "Well, I'm sure she does to some  _far_  lesser degree, but that's not why this mission is so dire for her."

Bobby rolled his eyes with exasperation. "Then what  _is_  it?"

"Well..." Okay, I'll admit I didn't feel entirely comfortable talking about it. Even though I held nothing against the three of them, I felt this information was privileged and shouldn't be discussed openly without the involved persons' consent... even if one of them was my former flatmate-of-the-mind. "It's nothing that might hinder this mission, if that's what you're fretting over."

"C'mon," Kitty goaded. "We oughtta know what Mystique's really up to, right?" Jean and she nodded fervently, which only made me sigh.

"I know, Kitty, I know. It's only that... I don't think I should. And it's not Mystique's feelings I'm worried about hurting, so don't you go thinking I've gone soft on the tart. I just... I just can't. Sorry."

"Ooh, this sucks," she pouted. "It'd be great to have something to hold over her."

"You leave that to me, then," I said, grinning mischievously. "She knows all too well that I've got her by the-"

"Alright, sensors are off," Mystique's voice interrupted through our earpieces. "Move.  _Now!"_

"Speak of the succubus," I muttered as Kitty dragged Bobby and I toward the chain-link fence at top speed. I could see Jean soaring above us, and winced involuntarily as we hit - passed through - the fence, stopping on the other side to wait for the others. Within seconds, Kurt  _bamf_ ed them in, and we started toward the buildings in the distance.

"Velocity," our "boss" continued, "just be ready."

"And  _you_  just worry about getting everyone out safely!" Storm replied from the cockpit. Mystique didn't answer.

A nervous moan escaped my lips as we ran; I had this feeling within my bowels that Raven was mistaken when she said this would be child's play.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XVII


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doing my best right now to keep the momentum going... I'm committed to seeing this through. Yes, this is still one of the chapters I already had written oh-so-many years prior, but I played around with bits of it. From here on out, however... it'll all have to be fresh-squeezed. Send prayers my way that I can do my ancient writings justice!

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

_"GRAAAH!"_

Man, I felt horrible for him. I mean, sure, he's Logan; he can take a few licks better than anyone I know. But those army guys were really pounding on one of my friends! I knew they wouldn't kill him - even if it was  _possible,_  they wouldn't dare - but it was almost too much for me to handle, and I certainly couldn't watch anymore.

"Rogue," a kind voice uttered, "are you going to be okay?"

"No, Mr. McCoy. Can't you see what they're doing to him?"

"Yes, I know... quite a harrowing sight, despite the resilience of our compadre there. And I share your frustration - these seemingly ineluctable circumstances are driving me up the proverbial wall, also. But you can't give up just yet."

I hugged my knees to my chest as I glanced over at him through the glass. "Why not?"

"Our compatriots will liberate us," he said earnestly. "A little faith and a lot of patience is all we need. And hey, even if they don't, I'm sure we can break out on our own. Army or no Army, I didn't sign on as an instructor at the Xavier Institute just so Uncle Sam and a robot could turn me into an exhibit at the Bayville Zoo."

Even though I nodded, Beast could probably tell his words didn't help much. I was never gonna get outta there! I would never moon over Scott again, or bunk with Kitty, or give Jean grief, or even eat the nasty school pizza. But what really got my goat was the one thought that kept kicking me in the stomach with all its might - that this turned out to be the most frightening prospect of them all.

I was never gonna see Risty again.

"You just try that one more time!" Logan was snarling.

My mind went back to obsessing over my best friend - not just the last few days, but all the shit we'd been through from the beginning. How'd I become so attached to the Brit? There hadn't really been a chance to stop and think about it in a long, long time, and there's no better opportunity than when you're rotting away in a glass cube.

Why did I remember the day we met so clearly? I walked into the gymnasium to hear stupid Kelly's "I'm your new principal and I kick ass" speech, just beginning to shift into apathy-mode, and there she was - purple mop and class schedule in tow, perched anxiously in the front row of the bleachers. Back then, I thought she looked solid - cool, relaxed, in her element. When I really thought about it hard in the corner of that sterile prison cell, though, the little things came back to me... things I'd noticed but hadn't considered remotely important. After knowing her for so much longer, the signs were obvious: the way she'd blinked too often, the pitch of her voice, how she kept running her fingers through her hair... it had taken every last scrap of her courage to look at me steadily and force out a simple, "Excuse me, how long do these assemblies usually last?"

It got the ball rolling, and by the end of the day it was like we'd known each other since kindergarten. I don't even think she was trying to warm up to anybody; she just needed information, and I was in a decent enough mood to oblige. Still, out of the hundreds of students in that gym, why'd she ask me?

"Can we get some chow in here?" Evan suddenly called through the airholes.

"Shut your yap," his guard snapped.

"You eat food?" another one laughed. "You sure you don't just absorb sunlight or somethin'?"

As they guffawed and Beast blinked in a highly-affronted manner, I realised I already knew the answer to my question, which slapped me in the face. I'm a freak. Not in the "ooh, power-sucking mutant" way, but the "ooh, anti-social goth chick" way. Everbody else in the gym that day was pretty much wearing polo shirts, Gap jeans and Vans, chattering with friends and probably glancing at the new girl, whispering "Who the hell is that?" Then, I stalk in alone - in my spiked choker, combat boots and crazy white bangs - and she instantly spots a kindred spirit; at a glance, we were both outcasts that didn't really have anybody, so maybe she could ask me one little question without getting that harsh, uncouth "Why are  _you_  talking to  _me?_ " look.

Of course, I had the X-Men, but Risty didn't know that... and neither did I, for that matter. I was just beginning to stop hating my new team - especially Kurt and Scott - but I wasn't at the point where I could trust them completely. Really, I was still adjusting to being a  _mutant,_  nevermind part of a mutant  _family!_  Meanwhile, Risty was giving the whole "tabula rasa" thing a shot. Not willingly, of course, but what else could you do with the horrifying experience of being shipped overseas to an alien land but try and make the best of it?

What a pair. I was a spooky-looking loner with the poison touch, and everybody back in England wrote her off as a wasteoid slacker. When the two of us were hanging out, we were just Rogue and Risty. I think that's what we both needed more than anything else at that time: someone that could appreciate us for  _who_  we were, not  _what._

I vowed then and there never to bring up Risty's sordid past again... to her or anybody else. She'd earned her clean slate.

"Ya pansie!" Logan bellowed. "C'mon!"

I glanced up to see Logan being removed from the table to be replaced by Beast, whom was already being herded out. Personally, I thought the tranquilizer dart, ropes, guns and cattle prods were overkill, but the Army dipwads didn't ask me. As I watched Logan being pitched into Beast's now-vacant cell, I somehow knew that if he survived this, he'd never mention Risty's little relapse, either; he got what it was like to wanna forget the past.

"Hey, kid," he grunted. "How ya holdin' up?"

"Alright, I guess." I wiped my eyes in an effort to make that seem more sincere, and I probably failed. "We missed you, y'know."

"I missed you runts, too." Only Wolverine could lean back against the cell wall and light a cigar, puffing contentedly as if he was in line at the DMV instead of the brig. "Sorry I couldn'a been there to help you guys beat up on th' damn Sentinel, but I's kinda... unconscious."

"The what?"

"The Sentinel," he hissed. "Big damn purpley hunka metal?"

"Oh, that." I sighed, almost wishing I had something to smoke, too; no point abstaining if you're just gonna die soon, anyway. "This really bites. I hope our friends are okay."

"Don't you worry 'bout that, Rogue. Between Ororo, Chuck and Slym, I'm sure they're doin' fine."

My eyebrow darted up. "Slim?"

"Cyclops."

"Oh... well, Scott's not exactly there; when Professor X let the Brotherhood kids join the team, he kinda disappea-"

_"WHAT?"_

I blinked, recoiling. "W-what's wrong?"

Honest, I swear to you right now, he bit clean through that blunt. "He let  _who_  join  _what?_ "

Oh, if only  _all_  the X-Men were telepaths - maybe then we could avoid conversations like that. But the General had heard Logan's outburst, and he was tromping over to stare into our cages. "Now, what's got into your shorts, son?"

"Burned myself on m' Cuban," he said, holding up the still-burning cigar.

The man scrutinized him. "That really a Cuban, or just- now wait a cotton-pickin' minute." He folded his arms. "That shout wasn't about any goddamn stogie. What are you two lovebirds jabberin' about over here?"

Okay,  _that_  made me uncomfortable. Me and Logan? As if! He's a really great guy... if you're looking for an ornery uncle or something.

"The weather," he growled. "Looks like a snowball's chance in-"

"Get him back out there," the general said to one of his henchmen, then turned back, grinning like a cat that finally nabbed the canary. "You really had me goin' there... had me convinced you didn't know anything, but obviously I jumped the gun. Let's see if we can't make a more honest citizen out of you..."

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"Iceman: third door in the next corridor. I'll cut the motion sensors."

There should've been an easier way to block out that annoying tramp's voice when I didn't need to hear it - easier than ripping the transceiver from my ear, that is - but at least we knew what the others were up to; everything had gone off brill since we'd infiltrated Area 51, and my confidence was rising steadily with each step. This was going to work - we were going to pull it off!

Next second, almost as if the Fates were aware of my emotions and were chomping at the bit to flout me, we heard a man's voice, followed by a thud and a few grunts of pain.

"What was that?" Scott hissed into his mouthpiece.

"Nothing to worry about," Mystique replied hastily. "However, I think we should hurry this up before something comes along I can't handle so quickly and quietly as-"

"Raven, dear," I breathed into my own mic, "are you still at the console?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"Well, luv, it's just that our teammates might need you looking out for them; we're inside a United States Military Installation, after all, and we can't afford not to have you-"

"Don't bore me with details I already know, you parasite," she spat. "I have everything under-"

The klaxon went off and we all tensed. The sound of doors flying open and boots thudding against metal reached us from nearby -  _too_  nearby.

"Oops," Bobby said via our earpieces. "Sorry, guys."

"You were saying?" I snapped.

 _"Damn!"_  was her only reply.

"Perfect," Kurt wailed as he glanced up at the flashing red lights and a sign blinking "ALERT" importantly, "so much for the stealth portion of our plan."

"C'mon!" Scott barked.

We dashed about twelve feet before we met a few soldiers with lethal-looking firearms leveled at us; turning around only granted us the same sight.

"Guess the 'Ghandi Escape' is out, too," I whispered.

With a sweep of her hand, Jean knocked several of them to the floor; Avalanche took care of the rest with an isolated tremor. It seemed too easy, but I wasn't about to complain, and thus we continued on the path to our teammates. As we came to a branching corridor, Mystique pelted out, stopping short when she spotted us.

"Hello," I panted merrily. "How about a brisk jog with us?"

She chose to ignore my mouth, which was probably just as well. "You four hold them off - we'll get the prisoners." She motioned to Kurt before turning down the hall. "Come with me, that way!"

"Oh, no you don't!" I shouted, following them.

"This isn't the time nor the place for your adolescent indignance!" she protested as we kept pace with her. "We need-"

"Don't be thick," I screamed over the loudspeaker announcing our presence. "You two'll need an extra hand. Besides, it's an even split this way; half stay, half go, right?"

"Oh, of course," she growled, making a face as she paused to kick open a door. "Trying to prove you're not just a shiftless burnout after all by rescuing your precious little Rogue, eh? Is that what you want, Risty dear?"

My fingernails itched to dig themselves into her face. "Not half, y' bloody slag. Probably as much as you, but you'd never admit-"

"Dammit, would you keep quiet about that?" Her eyes flicked to me briefly as our feet devoured the distance between us and the hostages. "I swear, one more slip of your forked tongue and I'll-"

"Oh, save it," I snarled viciously. Christ, it would've been gratifying to stop and take the mick out of that tart for an hour or two - and boy, do I know some right corkers - but Rogue... "Let's just get this sorted and argue the details when we're not fleeing for our lives, savvy?"

She gritted her teeth, but decided to keep her mind on the task at hand.

"Vell," Kurt muttered, "don't I feel like a third vheel."

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

I couldn't help feeling just a mite confused. Even hearing the sirens, noticing all the GIs scrambling around, seeing Evan launch a bonespike at Logan's wrist restraint, witnessing him slice his bonds into scraps before throwing the table at the Army and tearing the door to Evan's cell apart... it all seemed like a very intense dream. It wasn't until Spyke and Beast shattered the front of my crystal prison, freeing me, that my brain seemed to catch up with the flow of time.

Jailbreak.  _Freedom._  Just like Mr. McCoy said, our comrades were saving us!

Freddy broke the remaining green gunk around his enormous form with a mighty flex, and when he took in his surroundings he didn't seem too pleased; he immediately lifted the walls of his roomlet and hurled the giant Plexiglas cylinder across the room where it embedded itself in the floor, blocking one of the exits. Wolverine and Beast were making quick work of all the soldiers, and once most of them were unconscious (or at least unarmed), Blob and Beast started tossing them in the ersatz cage Blob had just accidentally created. Once the haughty general was in there, Blob threw a makeshift lid atop it, patting his hands to rid himself of the unclean feeling he no doubt picked up from touching the enemy.

Okay, so maybe I didn't do much to assist in our escape, but they seemed to have a handle on things. I was just glancing around nervously to see if any other unpleasant surprises were going to show up when I heard a familiar  _crack!_  from across the room where Logan was.

"'Bout time you got here, elf," he growled. "We were-" He growled louder. "What's  _she_  doing here?"

"It's... a little complicated," the elf replied. "See-"

"He'll send you a memo," snapped a dishearteningly familiar voice. "Now let's go,  _all_  of you! Rogue, wake up over there!"

Evan and I glanced at each other, shrugged, then sprinted toward the doorway the voices had come from, Mr. McCoy and Freddy on our heels. However, as I turned the corner, expecting (and dreading) a view of Mystique's blue butt receding down a hallway, I was instead greeted with the most beautiful sight that could have been there.

Arms folded in a would-be casual fashion, Risty didn't fool me for a moment; she was on tenterhooks, and when I came into view, her face positively lit up, hands fidgeting absentmindedly at her sides. My heart bounded into my throat as I ran toward her, one arm reaching out and snagging her to me, the other hand drilling holes in her scalp as I held on for dear life.

"Risty..."

 _"You!"_  she sobbed into my shoulder. It was only for two seconds, but I felt her face smashing into my neck as hard as she could push, heard her long, sharp intake of breath – was she  _smelling_  me? I think she was... trying to use all of her five senses to make sure she'd really found the genuine Rogue. "Sweet God  _Above,_  I've felt so lost without you..."

But then we stepped back, laughing giddily and swiping at our eyes, trying to pretend we weren't as excited to see each other as we were because there wasn't time to sit down and have a good cry over it. My hand clapped to her shoulder as we took off down the hallway, good old Lazarus keeping pace alongside me.

"Fancy meeting you here," she panted. "What're the odds?"

"Pretty good when you're the one springing us."

"S'pose so," she chuckled as Evan caught up with us and pounded her on the back. "Oi! Alright, Pincushion?"

Those few precious seconds before everything got crazy again, before the world started crushing down on us; that frantic and hurried reunion... My best friend had risked life and limb to snatch me from the jaws of the military, and it worked. There aren't words to describe how good that feels.

"Time to clear out!" Mystique shouted from a few yards ahead, motioning us to the left as she spoke to unseen persons on her right. "This way!"

"We still got company," I heard Lance say as we poured into the intersecting hall.

"Then  _bury 'em!"_  she growled, turning to follow us.

I felt the ground tremble slightly, but didn't spare a look backward; we had to find an exit, and surely Avalanche and whoever else was with him could catch up after dispatching a couple guards. I idly watched Mystique's blood-red locks whip around corners, trying to spot our quickest and easiest way out.

"Security breach, code red!" thundered the P.A. system. "Sealing all exits!"

"Spiffing," Risty breathed as a door slammed shut inches from Mystique's nose. Scott and Jean (where'd  _they_  come from?) made for two other doors a moment too late, as well. Logan pounced on a nearby aperture, trying to force it to remain open with his claws, but it was no good.

"Hey," Lance said nervously, glancing around at all the closed doors, "we're trapped!"

"Good eye, brain trust," Evan shot at him.

_"Over here!"_

We followed the voice to a tiny room and spotted Bobby and Kitty standing at the base of an innocently-forgotten ladder. Once he saw we'd found them, Iceman scrambled up and onto the roof, Kitty close on his heels. We all started hauling ourselves up the ladder (Kurt teleported Jean and Evan up to shorten our escape time) while Mystique and Scott stood in the doorway to the closet-esque room, covering us.

Just as Blob's sizable caboose got stuck in the trapdoor, Risty asked Mystique, "So, after this is over... are you going to talk to you-know-who about you-know-what?"

"I  _don't_  know what," Mystique spat distractedly. "Stop playing coy, it doesn't suit you."

"The small matter of a poor foster parent. That ring any bells?"

To my bewilderment, she glanced at me before whispering heatedly, "I told you to drop that!"

By this time, Kitty had phased Blob through the ceiling, and I had followed him up and onto the roof. I heard Risty sigh and say "Fine" before she climbed after me. Mystique took one last glance up and down the hallway as Cyclops emerged on Risty's heels, then began ascending as she grabbed for her mouthpiece.

"Storm, we're going to need pickup service; building five!"

I was just turning to clap a hand on Risty's shoulder, ready to congratulate her and the others on a job well done (and thank them for managing to get us out in something besides body bags), when I heard the slam of metal on metal.

"What are you doing? Out of my way!"

All of us wheeled around to see there was a grating over the hatch; Scott, one hand still propping open the heavy exterior door, was squatting over an infuriated Mystique, his jaw set, teeth bared. "Where is Professor X?"

 _"Are you INSANE?"_  she bellowed. "Let me pass, or you'll  _never_  see him again!"

Even as she said that, we could hear shouts beginning to grow louder from under her, and she glanced over her shoulder anxiously. Lance's hands were curling into fists, Risty was shifting uncomfortably, but Scott allowed himself a grim smirk. "Door's closing; you've got three seconds. What's it gonna be?"

Mystique's eyes widened in fear and she began shaking the grille desperately, her voice just beginning to lose its ever-present edge of arrogance; somehow, she seemed to know instinctively that he wasn't bluffing. "L-let me through! You- you haven't got the-"

Scott's features hardened. He stood up.

 _"NO!"_  Risty screamed, darting forward and catching the lip of the heavy trapdoor. "Let her out!"

 _"What?"_  Scott roared, rounding on her just as the sound of chopper blades reached our ears and our hair was buffeted by their winds. "What are you-"

"Just let her out!"

"How can you stick up for  _that?"_  he snarled, jabbing a thumb at the pair of astonished yellow eyes behind the grating, following the verbal tennis match. "After everything she did, after the explos-"

"This isn't the way and you  _know_  it!" she pressed. "We'll never-"

"We don't have  _time_  for this!" Jean shouted, using her telekinesis to fling the grating aside and drag Mystique unceremoniously onto the rooftop. "You can tear each other apart later; for now, let's all get  _out of here!"_

Bobby, Kurt, Evan, Fred, Kitty and Logan were already aboard the Velocity; Beast's furry behind disappeared through the door, and the rest of us knew we had to get on now or there might be no departure. With a start, I sprinted forward; guess I'd been too busy standing there, dumbstruck by Risty's behaviour, to realise I should be boarding my flight.

But just after Lance and Mystique leaped over the threshold, the chopper took off with Cyclops clinging tenaciously to the open hatch, leaving three of us stranded.

"What now?" Risty screamed, still running toward the aircraft.

Jean took a deep breath, then said, "Here we go."

In retrospect, maybe it was a fittingly spectacular farewell to my stay at Area 51, but it was downright scary at the time; Jean hauled Risty and I through the air after her, dodging around a government helicopter and soaring as fast as her brain could carry us. Unsure of what else to do, I grabbed Risty's hand and held it fast; she glanced over at me, startled, then smiled weakly as she squeezed back, returning her attention to Jean just as she was disappearing into the doorway, safe and sound.

Unfortunately, I saw her collapse after she got inside. And Risty and me weren't yet.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XVIII


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here we go; fresh work, solely from plotline notes. I really hope you like this new stuff, because it's actually giving me goosebumps to be writing EvF again! You guys have no idea... it's like sliding into your favourite pair of beat-up old trainers. Such a comfortable fit, like I never left; the words are flowing out of me. Enjoy!

_"AAAGH!"_  I yelped, snatching wildly for anything solid with my free hand as we slowly began to fall past the entranceway.  _"NO!"_

A strong hand clamped on my free wrist, and I glanced up to see Beast's face contorted with effort; when he began pulling us up and in, I saw a devilish tail wrapped around his arm.

"Rogue..." Risty began meekly.

"I won't let you go!" I screamed over the explosions and thunderclaps that seemed to be coming from all around us. My shoulder felt like it was about to pop outta the socket, but I could fuss over that later. "Don't worry, I got you!"

A few tense moments later, we were panting heavily on the floor as the hatch closed at last, all of us safely in the belly of the vessel. Still holding each other in a death grip, we took about fifteen seconds to catch our breath and let the lingering sensation of vertigo fade before we stood and nearly squeezed Mr. McCoy to pieces.

"Okay, okay," he chuckled softly; over his shoulder, I saw Bobby and Scott using their powers to blast enemy missiles out of the sky. "You're welcome, so let go, already; I enjoy breathing on a regular basis, you know!"

I smiled weakly as I turned to check Jean over, Risty following me, both of us still trying to slow our pounding hearts. "What happened to her?" I asked, wiping my eyes. "She gonna be okay?"

"Just a little tuckered out," Logan said, easing her up and into a chair; her head was tossing slightly, but other than that she seemed fine. "Draggin' yer keisters through th' air with her 's far as she did, not t' mention what happened inside th' base... woulda drained anybody."

A quick glance around told me Scott had retired to the cockpit with Storm (probably fuming about Mystique and losing Risty to the "Dark Side"). The blue wench herself was muttering quietly in the corner with Lance and Freddy. Kurt, Kitty, Evan and Bobby were seated near the door, quietly catching each other up and watching the five of us with some concern as we looked Jean over more carefully, just in case.

"Not so much as a blemish," Beast said at last. "Well, I believe I'll go up front for a chat with Ororo."

"An' I need t' use th' can," Logan grunted as he turned to the rear of the chopper.

"So," Risty said as we sat down with our friends, "how was Roswell Inn?"

"Boring," Evan grunted.

"Kinda scary," I said quietly. "I mean, watching how rough they 'interrogated' Logan... what would they have done to me if my number ever came up?"

"That would've been better than just caging us," he shot back. "I felt so useless until the prison break."

"I  _still_  felt useless afterward, standing around like a dummy... but forget about that. What happened to y'all on the outside?"

It seemed the others had a lot more to tell, so Evan and I mostly listened for the next half-hour or so. Just when it seemed like the tale couldn't get any weirder, someone unexpected would show up, or switch sides. I felt myself glancing at the corner where the dregs of the Brotherhood were plotting at increasing intervals; sometimes the actions described sounded just like them, but other times...

But when I found out, firsthand from Risty, the fate of Professor X and his Institute, I could swear I was slipping past the Velocity's hatch again; my whole world was askew. Really, I could see how sad Risty was about this, how much worse Evan, Jean, Bobby and Kitty felt, but they had no idea what that place meant to me personally; Risty hadn't been there long enough to put down roots, and the others all had their warm, loving families, but not me. Maybe we could find the Prof - pretty likely, in fact - but what about our  _home?_  The only place I'd ever felt any real attachment to, any fondness for... gone. Levelled by that harpy in the corner, and for what? To get back at Risty? To force us to join the Brotherhood? It just seemed so careless, so... wasteful.

And then there was Kurt. One look into his eyes told me he was probably the only other person in the helicopter that shared my feelings; true, he had surrogate parents that loved him and missed him (more than Irene missed me, I'm sure), but he'd told me that the X-Mansion was the only place he didn't feel like a monster. That, I could identify with.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Does it matter?"

My right eyelid lifted a millimetre to see Risty's arms folded across her chest... and blue fingers gripping the back of the seat in front of her.

"Yes, it does," Mystique whispered. I opened my eye a little wider and glanced around the other seats; most everyone had nodded off, too, though I saw an apparently-slumbering Logan turn his head in my direction, raise an index finger to his lips, then go back to "sleep".

"If you say so, luv," Risty hissed. "But if I were you, I'd be grateful for the freedom and leave it be."

"But you're  _not_  me," Mystique breathed, smirking slightly. "Not anymore. I find my interest earnestly piqued; why, dear Lazarus?"

A few seconds crept by, during which the sounds of chopper blades and Kitty and Toad sawing logs were all that reached my ears. "It was the right thing to do."

"Oh, don't give me that empty, altruistic sentiment. You may not have sunk to the lows I have, but you're no saint."

"Look, wench," Risty spat impatiently, "I couldn't just leave you there for the sodding marines, could I? And there are hundreds of valid reasons for that; you're chock full of mutant secrets, you know where Charles Xavier is... it's a day that ends in 'Y'. I know you wouldn't have done the same for me, but as we've established,  _I'm not you._  Maybe you don't know me as well as you ought, given our history."

"You expect me to believe you really have no ulterior motives?"

"It'd be rather handy if you followed through. You owe someone a chance to know the truth."

Mystique's tones turned frostier still. "I see."

An exasperated sigh. "I said 'handy', not 'necessary'; it'll come out in the wash one way or the other. Christ, Raven, I guess..."

"Well?" she pressed.

"Maybe I have no special love for you, exactly, but I guess I was just hoping that if I extended this olive branch, perhaps you might take it for once. We're in this together, now, aren't we?"

They both fell silent, and eventually Mystique drifted away to her corner. I continued my sleeping charade for some time, but my brain was buzzing with too many possibilities to actually doze after that.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Here ve are, back in peaceful Bayville."

Evan kicked a rock over the embankment of Lookout Point, thumbs hooked on his belt. "Yeah, great."

"Oh, come on," Kurt continued. "At least none of us are in prison, now. Be grateful ve're free."

"Correction," Scott said, glaring at Mystique. " _Most_  of us are free."

"We'll rectify that soon enough," she sneered impatiently. "First, we must regroup."

"Speaking of which," Storm asked (a little too politely), "where  _are_  the rest of your apprentices?"

"At the boarding house," she replied, leaning against a nearby tree. "The police are monitoring it closely, but Toad wanted to secure a few of our more important belongings before we seek out a new base of operations."

"Wanda's knickers, most likely," Risty smirked, leaning against her car.

"Most likely," Mystique agreed resignedly. "Incompetent pustule. If he gets himself incarcerated doing such a damn fool thing, he can stay there for all I care."

"Look at it," Logan muttered. We turned to see him gazing through a pair of binoculars at the rubble that was once our livelihood. "Nothin' but a pile o' rocks." He growled as he turned on Mystique. "You enjoy that, doncha? Puttin' us outta house and home?"

"I would be lying if I said the looks on your faces weren't priceless," she said with a nasty grin before sighing. "But no. Razing the mansion was intended to forcibly unify our factions against Magneto, and I suppose that part of my plan was successful, but now that our mutant status is public knowledge..."

"You kinda wish we still had the mansion to set up shop in," I finished for her.

 _"DAMN IT!"_  she flared suddenly, pounding a fist into the tree; it creaked ominously. "Damn you, Eric; you and your warped vision of mutant supremacy will be the undoing of our entire race!"

"How on earth can you blame  _him_  for blowing up the mansion?" Jean shouted.

"Forget the mansion," she spat, causing Jean's face to grow even stonier. "Don't you see? If we hadn't been outed, it would be quite easy for us to find a new headquarters; _anywhere_  would do in a pinch! Now that the authorities are out hunting us, however, our plight will be significantly more difficult... all according to his plan."

" _What_  plan?" Bobby asked. "What good does it do?"

"It seems Magneto's goal was to leave us no alternative but to crawl to him, begging for sanctuary," Storm said. Mystique nodded, but that made Ororo look up at her angrily. "And you played right into his hands."

"Oh, of course I did," she said acidly. "How is this news? It's all any of us have been doing since he began his crusade."

"But why try to kill off all the newbies?" Scott barked. "What could you possibly have to fear from those children?"

"Loose ends," Risty said quietly, startling us all. "It's not that she needed them dead... it's that she needed  _me_  out of the way to protect her identity, and they just happened to be there. Besides, their demise only simplified things."

Everyone looked at Mystique expectantly only to see her visibly unnerved by Risty's insight.

"So  _now_  what?" Kitty wailed, walking over to the edge of the hilltop and gazing out at the rising sun. "The Institute's gone, we still don't have the Professor back, it's open season on mutants... we can't even go back to school!"

"Vell, look on the bright side," Kurt replied with a shrug. "No homevork."

"We certainly can't rebuild the mansion," Scott said. "There's no time."

"Don't matter," I muttered. "Our faces have gotta be all over the news by now; that's the first place they'd look."

"Then we need somewhere to fall back," Storm said. "Perhaps a new building is too much, too soon."

"Are we gonna be living in Winnebagos or something?" Bobby asked skeptically.

"The Tapo caves," Evan said, suddenly perking up. "Out in the hills. That's probably big enough for us... and there's woods to hide the Velocity."

"Oh, yeah," I whispered sarcastically. "It'll be so nice to go  _there_  again... all those good times in Geology Club, huh, Scott?"

Scott glanced up at the blue hussy. "Rogue has a point; are you gonna throw a temper tantrum and knock us into another chasm?"

"You were expendable," she said bluntly. "Besides, that was a long time ag-"

 _"Rogue_  was expendable?" Risty interrupted with obvious disbelief.

"I was talking to the boy!" she snapped hastily, making my eyebrows arch; why was she so defensive? "But we are wasting time on Memory Lane. First, we must get to those caves undetected; once we've secured our base, we-"

"You think you're still calling the shots?" Storm spat.

"Our rescue operation was successful, was it not?" she retorted. "I see no reason for me to abdicate."

"When Xavier's back, that'll change," Scott said.

 _"If_ he comes back," she said flatly. "If I decide to let him come back."

"Raven," Risty whispered.

"Excuse me?"

She pointed to me. It kinda surprised me that she'd noticed me taking off a glove, but I took the opportunity to look as threatening as possible when Mystique noticed my bare hand (and its proximity to her face).

"Ah." She backed up a pace, folding her arms with a sigh. "Oh, very well. I guess I owe you for not abandoning me at Area 51. You shall have your head  _flower child_  back. But I still say we achieve the caves before anything else; it won't matter if we rescue Xavier if we've nowhere to take him."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

The first few days were the worst. No hot food, no running water or beds, everybody smooshed together in the caves like sardines. I mean, there was plenty of room for us to spread out... if you didn't mind getting hopelessly lost down some dark, dank tunnel. So we lingered a few yards in from the entrance, kicking around, whispering, playing rock-paper-scissors... doing anything to distract us from what was going on outside.

We made the news, alright. Every paper and TV station in the country wanted to talk about the "Mutant Menace" and nothing else. National headlines. It's the kind of fame most kids probably dream about night and day... except we weren't most kids. To us, this was all our worst fears come true, something we'd been dreading for years. Not just our neighbors, or even just the cops, but  _everybody_  in the entire world knew about mutants. Some of us were featured personally; I saw my face on at least one broadcast while Logan and I made a food run. Suddenly nothing I was carrying was all that appetizing anymore.

Ororo and Mr. McCoy were on their way to Washington to gatecrash some big Congressional meeting on the topic of mutantkind. Mystique wanted to go with them, insisting she could easily disguise herself as a senator and lobby on their behalf, attacking the problem from both sides. Not only did they decide that was underhanded and wrong, they also didn't trust her to hold her temper in check – which they were proved right about when she attacked Logan a few harsh words later. Forced to admit they had a point, she stayed behind... and was real good company after that, let me tell you.

"I cannot believe this!" she shouted into the darkness. She had retreated further inside to give herself some privacy, but it kinda defeats the purpose when you're yelling so loud the whole zip code can hear you, doesn't it? "As the head of the Brotherhood, I have every right to present myself before the nation's leaders and order them to stand down!"

"That's why she got babysitting duty," Risty confided in me quietly. "She'd  _order_  them instead of asking nicely. One catches more flies with honey..."

"I'm not sure there's enough honey in the hive to save our butts," I sighed, trying to keep the note of depression out of my voice and failing hard. "Between Magneto, Wanda and that stupid robot, we kinda obliterated half the city. How are we supposed to convince them that we're the good guys when we're destroying people's homes?"

"Don't be so vorried," Kurt whispered as he joined us. "Property damage aside, Storm and Beast have a vay vith vords; a few minutes talking to them, and the government vill _have_  to realize we're not mindless creatures."

"Says you," Lance grumbled from nearby. Kitty was holding his hand, but that didn't seem to be improving his mood much.

"At least we've got some free entertainment," Risty sighed, gesturing to where Mystique was attacking a few stalagmites to release some of her roiling frustration. "Nothing like a cornflower-hued she-devil going spare to lighten the mood, now, is there?"

We heard a commotion from the cave mouth. Instantly, Risty had two throwing stars between the fingers of one hand and Kurt was crouched and ready to spring... until we saw it was Scott, Evan and Jean heading our way. We relaxed, but our stomachs stayed clenched; it's no picnic living in fear.

"Anything?" Kitty asked.

"Not much worth mentioning," Scott grumbled. "The place is a landfill."

"I dug up my portable TV, and... my skateboard." Evan held both objects up, showing us that they were now three objects. "The board is toast, though. It was my best one, too..."

"Aw, a few nails and some duct tape and you'll be cruising again in no time," Toad laughed good-naturedly. It was probably the only time he ever said anything that made anybody feel better.

"We'd have searched longer, but the news vans and military made it impossible." Jean slumped against a wall, shaking out her long hair. "I hate this."

Scott frowned as he crossed his arms, surveying our new digs. "Where's Logan?"

"Out rustling us up some clothes and toilet paper," I said. "Bobby's with him."

"Well, when he gets back we're going to have a meeting. I think it's time we went looking for the Professor."

"Belay that," Mystique barked as she rejoined us, glowering at everyone in the vicinity. She really is a human canker sore. "Our status and safety are too precarious right now to go on another rescue mission. Charles is safe for the moment where he is, so putting ourselves at risk to recover him is unwise."

"Unwise or not, we need him," Jean said weakly, spreading her arms wide. "Look at us! We'll end up dying in here!"

"If our  _friends_  work their magic with eloquent speech as they intend to," she said with no small amount of disbelief, "then we'll be free men and women. If not, then we'll have only two choices left to us."

Risty laughed. She was the only one bold enough to do so right in Mystique's face. "And what choices are those? Original Recipe or Extra Crispy?"

" _Silence!"_  she spat at her former Siamese twin, mind already back on our troubles. "Either we admit defeat and join Eric's ranks... or we flee the country. As long as we remain in North America with prices on our heads, they will never stop searching."

"Which one are you in favor of?" Scott asked.

"Neither. But I will  _never_ be one of Magneto's pawns again.  _EVER._ "

That was probably the first thing she'd said to us that we could respect. Nobody wanted to be in Buckethead's gang.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Maybe an hour later, Risty and I took off to have some time away from the group; everybody was so tense and irritable, and when even Kurt snapped at me over nothing I figured it was time for some cool-down. Deep in a mold-infested cavern, we curled up against a wall, holding one of the three electric lanterns we'd picked up the day before and huddling for warmth. It was sure cool down  _there,_  alright.

"Maybe this was a dumb idea," I said, shivering.

"It was," Risty agreed. "But a sounder one than staying up there with the stirred-up hornet's nest. I'll take the chilly darkness over that with a smile."

I nodded, and we lapsed into silence for a few minutes. When I couldn't take that anymore, I cleared my throat; why waste this opportunity to actually talk to my best friend away from the rest of the collective? "So... you guys are really okay, huh? Self-destructs and Mystique and everything?"

"Well... 'okay' is a relative term. But yes, we're alive. I, for one, have been through far worse."

"God, the others..." This new shiver had nothing to do with the cold. "Jubilee, and Ray and Rahne... are you sure you didn't see any bodies?"

"Not a one, luv," she whispered, placing my head on her shoulder and petting my hair. The contact was more soothing than her words, but both helped a lot. "Don't worry so. It's... even if they are gone, there's nothing to be done for them now. Maybe that's not what you'd like to hear, but..."

"It isn't, but I get what you mean. All we can do is hope they got out in time."

"Exactly."

My throat closed up as I clung to her. "I'm so glad  _you_  did, at least! Does that make me a horrible, selfish brat? That I know I'd feel so much worse if I'd b-been rescued, and hadn't seen you there, and I found out th-that-"

"Hush, now," she ordered me, taking deep breaths to keep from breaking down as well. "All that unpleasantness is in the past. I survived the exploding X-Mansion, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt."

That somehow got me to laugh. "Dumbass. I know, though. I know whining about it all doesn't do us a damn bit o' good, but I can't help it. This sucks."

"Mark my words, Rogue; we'll come out on top. Always will. Can't bring  _me_  down, anyway; I'm already dead."

"Thought I told you to quit sayin' that!"

She was grinning at me and preparing to fire off some witty comeback when we heard a crash from overhead, followed by distant shouts. "Wotsis?"

"Sounds like trouble. C'mon!"

So up we got, running full-tilt back the way we came. I almost lost my footing once, but Risty's quick reflexes saved my sorry bacon from a long, hard fall. When we got closer to the cave's entrance, however, we started to wish we'd fallen anyway.

"What's going on?" I screamed at Kurt over the thunder of helicopter blades.

"Army choppers!" Logan answered for me, snarling. "We're under attack!"

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XIX


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned after the story for a special announcement. No, I'm not pregnant.

"Alright - we got a fight on our hands!"

Cyclops glanced back at Wolverine, one hand out to delay his comrade. "No, we don't."

"WHAT?" Logan fired up, claws out. Before either of them could answer, our ears were assaulted by the loud, blistering noise of a loudspeaker.

_"Attention Mutants! This will be your only warning! Surrender peacefully, or we will take action!"_

Logan's feral snarl made it pretty clear he wasn't ready to surrender peacefully. "You hear that? They're getting' ready t' fire on us!"

"They don't know what they're getting into. Iceman!"

Nodding, Bobby loosed a stream of concentrated polar energy that bricked up the cave's entrance; nobody was getting in  _or_  out for a while.

"Listen, kid-"

"No!" Scott barked into Logan's outraged features. "We're the X-Men, Wolverine; we're not kids anymore. You trained us, and you know something? We're good."

Several projectiles whistled through the air toward our location, but Scott turned, blasting right through the ice-shield and knocking them outta the sky, quick and easy.

"We're  _very_  good."

"Let me get this straight," Logan began menacingly. "You're defyin' me?"

"Nevermind  _you_ ," Mystique put in, stalking forward between them. "I am in command!"

"Listen," he told both of them, teeth clenched. "Any one of us here could smack down those choppers. But we're supposed to be  _heroes,_ not thugs."

"This unprovoked attack makes  _them_ our enemies," Mystique said firmly. "We either retaliate, or perish!"

"No," Scott said again. "They're not our enemies, but they think  _we_  are. The last thing we need to do right now is prove them right."

"So we stand on your higher ground and wind up buried beneath it?" she screamed into his face. "You really  _ARE_  insane!"

"Just think about this!" Jean said hastily, taking up Scott's cause. The missiles continued to blow through Bobby's defenses, but he renewed them almost without thinking about it. "If we go out there and start destroying their forces, they'll have all the proof they need to have us outlawed, probably put us all in prison!"

"Hauled off to internment camps," Logan said with a hollow note, as if he'd seen enough of that in his lifetime. "Or worse yet...  _concentration_  camps."

"Guys, I'm beginning to feel a little woozy," Bobby warned.

"We can't risk alienating them too early," Scott urged. "For now, we have to wait and see how this plays out. But if the President authorizes a mutant head-hunt... then I have no problem fighting our way off this continent."

This, more than anything, seemed to convince both Logan and Mystique that Cyclops might be right. It wasn't that he was scared or delusional – he just wanted to make absolutely sure the White House was gunning for our freedom before he gave the evacuation order.

"Please," Jean pressed. "It's what the Professor would expect from us."

 _"Guys!"_ Bobby shouted again, falling to one knee as he put a fresh layer of ice up.

 _"FINE!"_ Mystique snapped angrily, teeth bared. "You jeopardize all our lives, but I cannot argue; it would be a sorry thing indeed if the weather-witch and the blue baboon manage to convince those bureaucrats that we're sentient beings worthy of rights, only for us to turn around and shoot ourselves in the foot here and now. We retreat."

I noticed Wolverine sneering behind her back, pissed that she still acted like she was top banana. But he held his tongue for the moment; we had an escape to put into action.

Wanda and Jean took care of bringing down their air forces. They still wanted to shoot us, but Kurt teleported Kitty up there so she could phase a hand through their weapon systems and short them out. Grounded and defenseless, the soldiers were just hopping outside with guns when the Velocity took off into the sky, leaving them in the dust.

"Let's go get Professor X now," Cyclops said. "I bet Storm and Beast could use his help in Washington, anyway."

"You sound like a broken record," Mystique snapped while checking their rations and supplies. "Now we  _yet again_  must find living quarters. What is the use in picking up your vaunted Professor when he'll just be one more fugitive to look after?"

"Maybe he'll know somewhere we can go," Kitty volunteered. "I mean, he's a pretty smart guy, and kinda rich, right? Inheritances or whatever. The X-Mansion can't be his only hidey-hole."

"Or maybe it was," Fred boomed, folding his giant arms. "Maybe we should just buy some property somewheres else. Lotsa open country in Montana..."

"Guys..."

Everyone turned to where Jean was watching some news program. A member of Congress was shouting at Ororo and Beast about how untrustworthy mutants were, babbling about how  _this_  proved him right. A second later the picture changed to a feed from an in-the-field camera crew, and we all saw what "this" was.

" _Juggernaut,"_  Scott said as if it were a curse word. In my opinion, it practically is.

" _No..."_

We all turned to Mystique. "Now, why would you say that as if you're burdened by some sort of personal guilt over this?" Risty demanded.

"Because... it's true." Two blue hands curled into fists at her side, and suddenly I was looking at the most defeated, forlorn Mystique I'd ever laid eyes on. It was almost... _perverse_ , she looked so pathetic compared to how proud and sure of herself she normally was. "And... and now I shall tell you where to find Charles Xavier."

"Beg pardon?" Logan demanded. "Why you bein' so cooperative all of a sudden?"

"He is our best chance of immobilizing Cain Marko; there's no belittling that. The faster we retrieve him, the faster we can end this public relations nightmare."

"There's no time," Scott barked. "Your stalling has cost us that luxury. Now we have to head Juggernaut off immediately, Prof or no Prof."

The growl in the back of Mystique's throat caught us all off guard. "You pompous little upstart. Do you really think we have a prayer of defeating him without a powerful mind like Xavier's? He's impervious to everything else!"

"That's what I'm here for," Jean said quietly. "My psychic blasts are improving, a little."

"I didn't think you were working that kind of mojo," Kitty hissed, trying not to make a big deal out of it.

"What choice do we have?"

The Velocity was quiet for a long moment as we weighed the pros and cons of both plans. Me personally, I was willing to let Juggernaut trample a few houses while we doubled back for the Professor since he was our best shot, but there's no way you'd catch me trying to take command of the whole X-Men to force-feed them my opinion. I'm a background kind of gal... or I definitely was back then. Rogue, the gothic wallflower.

"Then we attack with everything we have," Mystique said quietly, voice full of steel and grit. "It will take all our forces combined to defeat him without a telepath – a  _powerful_ telepath at our disposal." Jean winced. "I remain vehemently against this."

"I'll jot it down in my diary," Logan told her flippantly. "Now let's get a move on before there ain't no people left t' save."

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

By the time we arrived at the scene of the destruction, the indomitable behemoth had already made short work of an army helicopter... and burst a hole in a sturdy-looking dam. Thousands of people were living happy lives in the valley below, unaware that a flood was imminent. There was certainly no time to waste pussyfooting around.

"Here we go again," Rogue told me, teeth clenched. "You ready for this?"

"Ready as ever," I gulped. "Which is to say, not at all. Can I call in sick?"

"Let's go," Mystique ordered.

"May fortune favor the foolish!" I cried as we leapt from the moving aircraft, Scott keeping his  _eye_  out (small joke) for a landing spot. We didn't have time to wait for a gentle disembarking.

Kurt teleported away to rescue a pair of soldiers from the other chopper as Juggernaut used the first to knock it out of the sky. He seemed to notice us at last and grinned – and allow me to assure you that seeing Juggernaut grin at you is one of those sights that ought to be  _very_  low on your "bucket list".

"Mutant kids, now –  _HAH!_  Too bad you don't have your  _papa_  to help this time!"

" _Yeah?"_  Scott shouted, which was an appallingly feeble comeback. Then the battle had begun, and we had worse things to fret over than snappy retorts.

Kurt and Kitty kept the neanderthal busy by distracting him; they provided ample insubstantial targets. As he concentrated on them, Mystique pounced on his back, releasing one of the four latches that kept his telepathy-proof helmet locked in place, then flipped catlike out of his range. He was still turning to retaliate when Jean magically raised him from the ground, and a quick burst of energy from Cyclops sent him spinning. Iceman tripped him up with a patch of black ice, sending him hurtling over the edge; his hand caught, and we could hear him struggling.

"Alpha Echo Charlie!" Logan ordered, and we all scurried away. I could see Mystique running over the scenarios in her head for a brief moment longer, but she caught on quickly enough so as not to compromise our strategy. It's wise to pay attention during battle sims.

Watching from the safety of the shadows, I saw his head jerking left and right, trying to figure out how we'd all turned invisible. "Where are you?" he growled, frustrated, just before Spyke sent a few bone shards his way. They bounced off harmlessly, but drew his attention; that was their only purpose to begin with. The moment he landed on the huge power transformer that Evan was on, our teammate jumped away, loosing another spike to cause it to explode and topple. Bobby hastily lubricated the side of the dam, and Kitty surfed down the ice-slide on Juggernaut's chest; when he collided with a ledge, she ghosted him halfway through it, then hopped off, smiling in a self-satisfied manner. That is, until he started pounding on everything with his massive fists; then she fled post-haste.

"Jean, the dam!" Scott said, pointing at the spillage.

"On it!" In a heartbeat, she was using her telekinesis to roll back the tide, and Bobby was solidifying it so they could leave it be for now.

"Job well done," Mystique panted, "but that won't hold Marko for long!"

"I'll handle this one," Kurt said,  _bamf_ ing away. We watched as he reappeared dangling from Juggernaut's back; in a few limber moves he had two more latches released, but then the evening's villain had him by the scruff of his neck.

"That's  _enough!"_

When he threw Kurt into Jean's midriff, sending both X-Men plummeting, I heard Rogue let out an anxious cry. Then the lummox was loose, advancing on the rest of the team. Wolverine pounced on his back and clawed the final latch open, but before he could swat the helmet free,  _he_  was swatted free.

"What are you tryin' to do, embarrass me to death? Come on, gimme your best shot!"

"You know, that's  _just_  what I had in mind!" Scott's blast easily relieved him of his dome-like headgear. Juggernaut flung a hand out desperately, trying to catch his saving grace, but it was out of reach; we heard a quiet  _splash_  in the waters below. Not waiting for him to shake it off, again and again Scott assailed him with optic bursts, but it made as little difference as if he were breaking wind.

"You think that fancy visor's gonna stop me?  _Nothing_  stops me!  _I'm RAW POWER!"_

"You want it raw, tough guy?" Cyclops bellowed, clearly at the end of his tolerance; after everything we'd been through in the preceding hours, it's a wonder he didn't spit on the mammoth blackguard, as well. As it was, ripping off his visor and directing his unfiltered mutant ability at him was more than vengeance – it was reckless and insane. "Then take it –  _RAW!"_

Juggernaut was blown back at least twenty meters. Moreover, entire sections of the dam were obliterated in seconds; I spied Wolverine leaping from ledge to ledge, scarcely managing to rescue a few stunned reporters from an unexpected cremation. The rest of us ducked and covered; for my own part, I hadn't the faintest inkling of what Scott might do at that moment. He was beyond reason.

Then, with steady determination, Juggernaut was walking toward him. Impossible! No way in hell could he withstand that much undiluted energy! But he was; he struggled against the crashing waves of crimson, hand outstretched, until he was clamping it down over Scott's face, sealing off the surges. His head reared back and he laughed.

The rest of us attacked, but it was no use; it was like throwing popcorn at a Buick. I spied Kitty running over to Rogue and the latter taking off her gloves. But would they be able to reach him without notice?

_"You can't stop the unstoppable!"_

"Are you that naïve?" I intoned, allowing the pigment to drain from my skin, stalking forward. To my dismay, my voice dropped an octave, and steam rose from my footsteps, but I couldn't care about the details. "Death comes for us all, Cain! All but me! Now it has come for  _you!"_

My strongest empathic wave burst forth, aimed straight for the towering clot. I felt most of my energy go with it; this was all or nothing. He was a steamroller, and I was trying to rattle him. Ridiculous doesn't  _begin_ to cover it.

But it worked. I saw sweat beading on his forehead, saw his pupils dilate. He released his grip on Cyclops, and I was slightly amused to see Scott also backpedaling away and shoving his visor back in place, frantic and crazed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Toad fainting.

"Party's over – lights out!"

I cut off the wave when I noticed Rogue's hand latching onto his face, nails digging in as she held on for dear life – not a moment too soon, either, as I knew I couldn't keep it up for more than a further two or three seconds. Immediately, he began spinning in circles, scrabbling at his back, but my best gal pal had too good a grip on the lumbering fool. It was an agonizing stretch of time before he succeeded in throwing her off, whereupon she rolled across the concrete and lay still.

_"ROGUE!"_

Oh, it wasn't I who screamed; Mystique beat me to it. Only because I was too out of breath from expending most of my reserves.

The look etched into Cain Marko's features was feral, incensed. He was out for blood. His fist was inches from Rogue's face when she caught it.

No, she  _caught it._ With her own bare hands, she flung his attack away as if it were a mosquito. Again and again, he came at her, and she foiled him effortlessly. My wee little Rogue, an utter badass! With a mighty grunt, she hefted him by the waistband and chucked him into empty space.

"Crap!" Bobby hissed through his teeth, dashing forward and sending a sub-zero blast his way, encasing our foe in an enormous block of ice. We watched it spin end-over-end, then splash into the river below.

As we looked on, catching our breaths, Rogue stomped over to me, wobbling. I grinned at her. "We did it, luv!"

"Yep," she told me gruffly. She sounded a lot like Juggernaut, and her brow was furrowed much the same as his had been. Those delicious after-effects...

"That... was something else," Scott whispered to me. I'm sure his eyes were wide as dinner plates behind his visor. "I really felt like-"

"Like we were all going to bite it," Evan supplied for him. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry, X-Men," I apologised, staring down at my boots. "Guess I haven't got the hang of it enough to focus it on a singular entity."

"Oh, whatever," Kitty laughed nervously. "So I won't be able to sleep tonight – so what? It totally worked, you had him sweating bullets!"

For a few minutes we looked on as more military choppers began circling, searchlights gouging into the night to turn up the new Public Enemy Number One.

"They can't find him!" Jean wailed.

Kurt hopped over. "Should ve go hunt him down?"

"Negative," Mystique sighed. "I'm sure he's gone. Soon enough, the day will come when he shows his ugly face once more."

"And by then, we'll have the Professor back," Scott finished. "We're done here, guys. Let's move out."

As we were walking back to the Velocity, I saw Rogue swoon and pitch forward; my borrowed reflexes saved her from a bloody nose. "Hey, luv, what's the matter?"

"Nothin'," she gusted, swallowing thickly as Bobby jogged over and helped me support her weight. Scott, Jean, Logan and Mystique were all casting fleeting looks over their shoulders, trying to gauge if immediate medical attention was needed. "I'm fine, just... getting high off Chrome Dome's strength left me crashing pretty hard afterward. Got a big chunk of his memories, too. They-"

Everybody held their breath when she stopped. "They?" Scott prompted.

"They're telling me where the Professor is," she spat angrily, turning on Raven.

"What?" she said casually. "Didn't I tell you he was safe? No one would bother looking for him  _there._ "

"You let that power-tripping bully out just to stash the Prof in his chamber?"

"That true?" Logan asked, his tone deadly serious, claws out again.

"It is." Mystique folded her arms, sneering even as her face betrayed how... I think the word  _embarrassed_  applies. She was embarrassed to have us discover this flaw in her great plan to take over the X-Men. "I hope none of you are under a mistaken impression that I will not do whatever I deem necessary to meet my goals, because I will. Time and time again, I will, without hesitation or indecision."

"That would be an admirable quality," I snapped. "Well, if you weren't a raging  _cunt._ "

In a flash, Mystique's hands were curled around my throat and mine were rocketing up to bruise her wrists, but then Rogue was holding us apart with ease, gloved hands clamped around our shoulders; a little leftover muscle enhancement from old Mr. Unstoppable. "Enough, both of you," she grunted, lip curled back in a snarl. "Mystique, you should probably just shut the hell up for a while. And Risty... stop baiting her, okay?"

I nodded; she had a point, there could be no denying. Mystique squirmed for a few seconds, then also gave a curt nod, barely moving her head as her bizarre catlike eyes stared off elsewhere. Satisfied (for the moment), Rogue released us.

"Now say you're sorry and shake hands."

" _Excuse_ me?" Mystique spat, eyes wide and deranged, just before Rogue started laughing. Most of the team joined her – even the Brotherhood tykes.

"Oh well; it was worth a shot."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POST SCRIPT: Hi! To commemorate finally reaching Chapter 20, I've put together a little something. (All of you who've read Lark and Chimaera, just you keep silent; I know how ridiculous I am. No, no, stop that laughing!) Anticlimactically, it's a fan-soundtrack. Since X:Evo went off the air in 2003, I did my best to see that none of these songs came out any later; they are period-canonical (assuming that Evo was supposed to be set during modern times and not a bazillion years in the future), and therefore Rogue could actually have listened to them. Being that I read somewhere that she digs KoRn, Manson and Garbage and that we know her to also be the stereotypical goth teen, it wasn't difficult to use a few old favourites from my (ahem) angsty youth to fill out the rest of the track list. And I've babbled enough about this idiocy, so...
> 
> EVOLUTION OF FRIENDS: Rogue's Mix
> 
> 1\. Naked Birthday (Gothtastic Remix) [Switchblade Symphony] (this version is a MUST!)  
> 2\. Make Me Bad [KoЯn]  
> 3\. Great Big White World [Marilyn Manson]  
> 4\. Tear [Smashing Pumpkins]  
> 5\. Schism [Tool]  
> 6\. I Love Myself Today [Bif Naked]  
> 7\. The Only Thing [Stabbing Westward]  
> 8\. Runaway [Linkin Park]  
> 9\. Monster [Abandoned Pools]  
> 10\. For You [Staind]  
> 11\. Who Am I Now? [Rogue's theme from X-Men:Evolution - find it at toonzone dot net slash x-men slash music1 dot php.]  
> 12\. Androgyny [Garbage]  
> 13\. Misfits [Third Eye Blind]  
> 14\. 3 Libras [A Perfect Circle]  
> 15\. Please [Nine Inch Nails]  
> 16\. I Don't Have Anything [VAST]  
> 17\. Sleep Together [Garbage]  
> 18\. Hopeless [Train] (a nod to Rogue's well-suppressed Southern roots, teehee)  
> 19\. Stand Inside Your Love [Smashing Pumpkins]
> 
> By the way, they do add up to the length of a single CD-R, thanks for asking (preemptive strike). Then again, if you're using iTunes to compile this soundtrack because, for some unimaginable reason, you trust a random fanfiction author's taste in music, you'll probably just be synching them to your iPod. Well, FINE! Go have fun with your fancy, newfangled gadgetry, you crazy young punk! I'll bypass that technological generation entirely and wait for them to pump my jams directly into my cortical implant!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good confrontation in this one. It's something I'd had planned for a while and I'm glad I finally got to write it; needed to happen, and sets up another scene in the coming chapters. Enjoy, all.

"Just down this way."

Unbelievable. Abracadabra, we were in SHIELD. Well, not exactly  _SHIELD_ , per se – a prison that is secretly owned by them, lock, stock and barrel. Same difference. I'm not sure it would have been quite so easy to enter without Logan... which more or less balanced out our difficulty in clearing Mystique. It seems they're more than abreast of her exploits, which would be enough to make any man leery.

In the end, it was decided that only Blob, Scarlet Witch and Nightcrawler needed to be left behind with the Velocity; a few bodies to guarantee it wasn't hijacked. That left the rest of us traipsing down the hallways, nervous as to what condition our fearless leader might be in.

"It's amazing how weak and pacifistic Xavier's brats are getting these days," Mystique was muttering. "I can't believe we're voluntarily entering a human prison as if taking an afternoon stroll, smiling for the cameras. What were all those combat drills about if we're only going to use them once in a great while?"

"They're for taking down Juggernaut and all those like him," Scott fumed.

"So you'll use them against a lone mutant, but not against those who would do us  _real_ harm? The humans are-"

"Raven, dear," I told her in light tones. "Might you accompany me for a private conversation? It won't take but a minute."

"No."

"Aw, come on. You know you can't refuse little old me."

Mystique's skin was visibly crawling... by which I mean her subconscious was itching to turn into another form that would make it easier for her to end my existence. It was worth it just for that much. "I don't suppose you'll consider letting this drop, will you?"

"Sorry."

With a grunt of impatience, she followed me around a corner. A few of the other X-Men shot me quizzical looks, but I only smiled and waved. "Don't bother about it. We'll catch up."

Around a deserted corner we went; it was a dead end leading to a janitor's closet. I was surprised to notice there weren't any security cameras down that way... surprised, and pleased. That would make this easier.

"This had better be-"

She broke off when she noticed the blade inches from her jugular vein. I watched her eyes grow round, then focus on the nearby tip of my boot from which the concealed weapon was protruding.

" _What is the meaning of this?"_

Neither of us spoke for a few seconds. She tensed to bolt in one direction but my blade followed her movements. There would be no simple thwarting of my attack, no path of least resistance. Her throat constricted, but she showed no other outward signs of unease.

"Go on," she goaded in quiet, deadly tones. "Your precious team will not take my death lightly. They're too 'pure' and 'righteous' and all of those other shortcomings. So take my life, if you don't value their respect." When I still didn't reply, she bared her fangs and growled, "If you're not going to finish the job, then what is the-"

"Why... why can't I do it? It would be so easy, just a few more centimetres, but... but I can't, it would be wrong. Even after narrowly escaping your final kiss so many times, I can't even return the favour."

Digesting my hesitation, she grabbed the sole of my boot and flipped me; I was more than capable of completing the rotation and landing on my feet, coiled and ready to spring, hands at the ready for a scuffle. "You won't avoid my kiss again, you unwelcome blight, you, you...  _remnant!_  Let's finish this, here and now!"

So what did I do? I dropped my hands to my sides and stood limply. "No."

"Are you mad? Your intestines will grace the walls seconds from now!"

"I don't want to fight you; I can't bring myself to. Don't ask me why, but it would be like... like snuffing an evil twin. Your piss-poor behaviour aside, it somehow still feels akin to killing my sister."

She rushed me. It was a simple maneuver, a sidestep, but it sent her hurtling into the wall; she quickly walked up it and backflipped over me, seeking to catch me from behind, but I ducked down and to my left, then popped back up and shoved her into the same wall she'd scaled, pinning her arms in the small of her back.

"That doesn't mean I'm ready to take a beating, either," I hissed directly into her ear.

"What do you  _want_ of me?"

My tone of voice was probably ghastly. "Tell me something, dear Mystique. I'm sure you're glad to have me out of your brain, to have your thoughts to yourself again. So am I, infinitely, but... am I the only one that, just every once in a great while... misses that closeness?"

"Go to hell."

"Been there, done that," I said, leaning over her shoulder and staring into her eyes, breathing hard as I fought to maintain my hold on the wily tart. "Really, my dear... not even a touch?"

At long last, she relaxed and sighed, refusing to meet my gaze even though our noses were a mere inch apart. "As much as it irks me to admit this... many days, your half of our shared consciousness was the only person I could depend on for certain. Even though I couldn't trust you."

"And rightly so, too."

"Rightly so." She made a sudden trifling bid for freedom, which I denied to her. "Release me, you maggot!"

"Aww, I would, but I'm not done yet."

 _"RGH!_  Why didn't I liquidate you when I stole your vehicle? It would have saved me  _months_  of headaches!"

For some odd reason, I felt myself smiling. "Why was it so important that I die?"

Another spasm that I kept under control. Sweat was breaking out all over her azure skin; I could feel my fingers sliding around her wrists, but as old Raven knew how to hold onto a slippery detainee, so did I. Her own knowledge of the ins and outs of espionage would be her undoing. "You are-  _were_  a loose end. You know everything about me, things I'd rather not know myself, let alone anyone else find out about them." A slight curl of her lip. "Davis Carmichael?"

I couldn't help it; I giggled.  _"There's_  one for the blog."

 _"See?_  That's the sort of thing that should be private. But you and I both know there are things far less trivial than that."

I gave her a weak nod. "True enough. To set your mind at ease, I haven't revealed anything of your private life yet; only things that were pertinent to missions and suchforth."

"You prove my point for me."

"Oh, come on," I scoffed. "Did you actually expect me to keep a lid on things like that once I'd joined your enemies? If my trade secrets benefited the Brotherhood in any miniscule way, they'd be flowing past your lips like water."

"It is... as you say."

"Tell you what, luv," I said, finally dropping back. Instantly, she was whirling to face me, rubbing at her own wrists to alleviate the chafing. "Here's my opening bid. I won't spill any of your juicer tidbits so long as you stop trying to impersonate  _or_ exterminate the X-Men. And me; I'd appreciate that as a way to sweeten the pot."

She thought about it. I mean it, she really did; it was plain as the nose on her haughty face that those rusty cogs were turning. "If I did agree... what makes you think you have any chance of believing my word?"

"I'll know if you lie." When she only glared daggers in my general direction, I sighed and snapped, "Aren't you tired of failing to kill us? I mean, not saying you're complete rubbish, but with your success rate plummeting every time..."

"I could kill you where you stand now and end this useless brokering."

"You could not. Posturing doesn't become you. I'm your equal in a thousand ways, and your better in one or two. Face it, Darkholme: you've met your match."

" _DAMN YOU!"_ she swore, hating me with every fiber of her being. "This is unacceptable! I knew I should have chopped you into a thousand pieces once you were removed from my body!"

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, my little chickadee."

She was still heaving and glowering, fists vibrating with rage, when a voice came from behind us, "Am I invited to this shindig?"

We both turned to find Rogue leaning against the wall, arms crossed. She looked mostly angry, but also a touch concerned.

"Enough talk," Mystique blustered as she shoved past me. "Let's retrieve your feeble-minded mentor and be done with this place."

We followed a few paces behind. A pained look on her face, Rogue leaned over and asked me, "What's up with you?"

"Nothing to worry your pretty head over."

"I know my head is pretty, but that's not what I asked." I smiled, but her demeanor remained serious, despite her small joke. "Do I get to know what's goin' down?"

"I meant what I said; it's nothing. Just trying to talk some sense into that bloody bird. Probably all for naught, but you can't fault a mutant for trying."

Rogue nodded in that unsatisfied, disbelieving sort of way as we finally caught up to Mystique and the rest of our crew. "Yeah."

"There we go," said the guard, who was just finishing up his fingerprint and retinal scans necessary to placate the door locks. "Right through here."

We looked on with baited breath as the large glass cylinder in the center of the small room raised, flinched when we saw Charles Xavier floating inside it. Already, it felt like ages since we'd seen him... and it had been. Since we'd seen the genuine article, at any rate.

"Is he alright?" Jean whispered.

The guard nodded as he keyed in more sequences upon a control panel. "Yes, he'll be fine. We had no idea..."

"Just get him out of there," Scott barked. Too long had we been without our guiding light.

"I don't understand how anyone could get Juggernaut  _out,_  let alone get Professor Xavier  _in."_

"Hmm, go figure that," I muttered. Mystique bristled, but said nothing, up to and including the moment when the suspension fluid finished draining from the chamber. The oxygen hose retracted into the roof, and a cable holding him at the halfway position lowered him slowly to the ground. The instant the glass panels slid away, Cyclops and Marvel Girl were converging on their father figure, supporting his head, asking if he was okay even before he'd awoken.

"Fine," Mystique whispered to me while no one was paying attention to her.

"Fine what?"

"It's a deal... but the moment I find you've broken it, you'll  _find_  a machete in your liver."

My voice was quite fatigued as I replied, "And the moment I find  _you've_  broken it, the entire Davis story will  _find_  its way all over the Internet for the world to peruse at their leisure. Mutual distrust aside, can we shake on it?"

Casting a surreptitious glance over at Lance and Todd, she thrust her hand out from under her folded arms. Knowing that was as close to an open sign of a cease-fire as I might ever be offered from her, I shook it, sealing our pact.

"But you have to tell her."

"No," she hissed at me, having eyes only for Rogue, watching her press Xavier's hand between her two gloved ones. "Not part of the agreement. She cannot know."

"Believe me, I remember your reasons for keeping her in the dark about this," I urged quietly, pleading with all of my heart. "But... listen, this isn't meant as a threat, just as a true statement: I can't keep lying to her. Not that I  _won't_  because you're off my Christmas list, but I  _canNOT_ do it. It's physically impossible for me to continue feigning ignorance and filtering my words at every turn, not when I know something this monumental about my best friend. Understand? Please,  _please_  try."

"I am more than aware, you weakling." But there was no real bite to her words. "I remember with gut-wrenching clarity, Lazarus. Your bleeding heart will be the death of me. And I would need to confer with Destiny first, ensure that this is a prudent course..."

"Then you'll tell her so I don't have to? It's a dirty job that I'm not looking forward to, to be frank... but it'll come out either now or in future, and no matter when it does it'll be an unqualified disaster. Make it now, and make it voluntary. She deserves that little and you know it."

We both watched as Rogue turned away from the others, wiping a tear away, trying not to let them see the tiny sign of weakness that none would have blamed her for anyway.

Mystique sighed. "She does."

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

To wrap up several hours of nail-biting, mutants were given the Presidential seal of approval.

Want a longer explanation? Alright. We hid out in the prison for as long as we could get away with it, then we hopped in the Velocity and tooled around, trying to figure out where we were going. When Xavier was finally bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, he told us we should just land at the site where the mansion used to be. The military was still there, and he talked at 'em over a megaphone, explaining that we would defend ourselves if necessary but that we were on private property, and it was our own right to destroy it if we wished (which was his way of telling them to shut up about the unexpected ka-boom). They didn't like that, but it bought us time.

Ms. Munroe and Mr. McCoy did us all proud in Washington; Congress and the Prez had to agree after watching a live broadcast of us taking down that big musclehead that not _all_  mutants were bad, even if we were kinda different. The fact that Bolivar Trask, the pea-brained so-and-so who cooked up the Sentinel disaster to begin with, was now behind bars helped our case a lot. So they issued a stand-down order, and the boys in green pulled out, leaving us to our wreckage and our misery. We'd lost a lot... but not everything.

As we began rebuilding, living out of the surviving sub-basement barracks that weren't meant to hold that many students, life got kinda topsy-turvy. I've lived in worse places – like the Brotherhood House, for one, which is a pigsty – but it was still...  _cramped._  "Cross-country road trip in a Vanagon with six or seven friends" kind of cramped. All day and all night, we sawed and hammered, using our powers as much as we could to hurry along the process. It didn't look much like a house, or  _anything_  for that matter, but we knew we'd get there one day.

Risty didn't mind at all. That's probably because she'd drawn the short straw and got stuck in my room. And by "room", I mean a claustrophobic closet with a cot, plus some shelves to store our underwear and the two or three outfits we'd bought since Mystique blew all our belongings sky high. We took turns sleeping on the floor, which wasn't any bigger than the pitiful bed. It gave us a lot of time to talk, and I loved it; after all the terrible mess we'd been through, all I wanted was to stay cooped up in the poorly-ventilated little room with my best friend, chatting and pretending there wasn't a world outside that wanted to serve up our heads on silver platters.

"We did have an awful time of it in there," she was telling me on one of the earlier nights as we tried to drop off to sleep; the heavy labor of building a mansion should tucker you out pretty good, but sometimes you still can't find your way to dreamland for a while. "Cerebro isn't built for creature comforts. It was dark and dank, nobody could see a foot in front of their faces. Kept tripping over Jamie, which made several more Jamies..."

"Sounds like hell," I snickered. "Guess I had it easy, sitting around in a glass bubble."

Risty squirmed to find a better position and ended up on her back again. "Dunno if I'd go that far,  _amiga._  Still felt horrible that you were locked up, you and Evan and Logan... Mr. McCoy... but I've got a new respect for the integrity of the United States Armed Forces."

"And where'd you pick  _that_  up, the Stupid Store?"

"They didn't harm you," she said quietly, and I instantly got where she was coming from. "They had every chance, and nary a scratch on my teammates – not even Logan, though I'm sure he gave them incentive with every breath."

"I guess you got a point. I mean... next to Juggernaut or the Brotherhood, or Magneto's Bucket Brigade, I'd definitely take the Army."

"Rogue..."

My eyebrows went up. "Yeah? What's wrong?"

"I wanted to... finish discussing something with you, something we brought up before but never quite dissected. Last time, we were interrupted by said Army we've agreed isn't the devil incarnate."

"Uh-huh?"

"Does it... bother you?"

I sighed, leaning on my fist. "Risty, you're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"That thing, where you don't say what you really mean, and just make half-assed references instead. Spit it out."

I got a quiet laugh for my efforts. "I meant my being dead, but you get an 'F' in subtlety this semester, young lady."

"I really wish you wouldn't put it that way."

"I know you don't, but it's true; my heart stopped beating, and I can do it again whenever I wish. That categorizes me under the heading of what that doctor in  _Princess Bride_ would call 'mostly dead'. I'm a purple-haired zombie."

"Stop it!"

She sat up, arms folding. "Rogue, you know this. I'm just trying to get you to accept it so we can move forward."

"Don't you get it?" I whispered, turning to the back wall. "Every time you say that, I'm afraid that... that I'll wake up, and realize I was just dreaming about your ghost these past weeks. That the real Risty is gone, or wasn't real to begin with except as some girl Mystique once saw on a street corner. I... dammit, Risty, I want you to be alive."

"Luvvie..." The way she sighed, I knew she was disappointed but not mad or anything. "Okay. Okay, I'll help maintain your delusion for a while longer, but we can't keep up the charade until the end of time."

"Then as long as you can."

I heard her sheets rustle, then felt her sliding into bed with me. That happened all the time these days; we'd been through so much torture and anguish since we split up and my half of the team battled the Acolytes that our demons kept driving us into the same bunk. Tonight just happened to be my turn needing to be coddled and cuddled.

So I enjoyed it. Is it creepy that I did? Same as before – that evening Risty shanked Mystique in the days when we still had a mansion to call home. It's not like I let myself get all depressed just so we could snuggle down beneath the sheets, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, either. That kind of close human contact was something I couldn't have elsewhere, no matter how brave I was or not, no matter how much I liked or didn't like people. And that night, it was a special bonus having her warm heart beating so close-by, because it flew in the face of that line of crapola she kept trying to sell me on. Risty  _was_ alive... even if she kicked ass at playing 'possum.

"I'm sorry, Rogue."

My eyelids fluttered open. Normally, we didn't talk by this point; it was like an unspoken rule, since being so cozy was a little weird for both of us social rejects. Trying to talk at the same time added too much extra weirdness on top of it. "About what?"

"Everything. Just... just everything, okay? X-genes, me, life... everything."

"You don't have to apologise for you, Risty. You're something I'm  _never_  sorry about."

"B-but... but maybe if I had resisted Mystique sooner, accelerated our separation... what if I'd prevented her from stealing that data? She'd never have found Wanda, wouldn't have known the mansion's self-destruct codes, wouldn't-"

"Hush, darlin'," I bade her, rolling over and gripping her shoulder tightly for a second. "None of that; no shoulda, woulda, coulda. We're still alive and together in the here and now, and that's all I could ask for."

She was quiet for a moment, but I heard her swallow past a mighty lump. "Are you sure you don't loathe me for my role? For not being able to override her personality early enough to prevent her from discombobulating our lives?"

"Nah. Besides, between the two of you guys I know Mystique's  _way_  less important to me, so why would I let her off the hook when it's completely her fault anyway?"

I felt Risty's entire body go rigid when I said Mystique wasn't important. I  _know_  I felt it, I'm not stupid. Was she maybe feeling  _sorry_  for that jezebel? But when I flinched too, then held still and decided she wasn't tense or otherwise different from normal, I convinced myself that I'd imagined the whole thing and relaxed, curling around her and falling asleep.

Of course, as it turned out, I was totally off the mark.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XXI


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for a world of hurt...

"Anybody home?"

God, I hated the Brotherhood House. It was grimy, crumbling, and always had that lingering smell of Toad's gym socks. Nobody ever did laundry but me when I lived there, and I refused to do dishes or any of that other junk... which means it didn't get done at all. I had a hunch that this was what fraternity life was like.

"Hel- _LOOO?"_   I called out, still standing just inside the front door, hands in my pockets. This was lame; getting called over here only to be kept waiting? If they thought I was about to hang around and waste my valuable time, they had another think comin'.

"Excuse me."

I started, turning to the kitchen door to see Wanda Maximoff glowering at me. You know, I can't lie; she had some fierce fashion sense. Girl was working the crimson and the ankhs in a way that any goth can appreciate. Doesn't mean I liked her... but I didn't hate her, exactly. Amazingly, she had an even more fractured childhood than me, and we orphans and castoffs gotta look out for each other.

"I was just leaving."

As she started to brush past me, I snaked out a hand and caught her elbow. "Hey, uh... how you holdin' up?"

"Like you care," she spat venomously, teeth clenched.

"Fine, fine," I said, letting go; clearly grabbing onto her was not the easiest way to win her over. "But I can see from here that the kitchen looks a lot cleaner than it did back in my day."

Wanda's hand twitched toward the doorknob, but she hesitated. "You... used to live here?"

"Yeah. I, uh... wasn't quite ready to be part of Xavier's 'bright future' plan when I moved to Bayville. Flopped here for a spell."

Her eyes stared away from me, boring a hole into the threadbare carpet of the living room. Then she straightened. "It's getting better. But I still hate them."

"Yeah, they're jerks. Most of the time." I hesitated, scratching my elbow and trying to come up with a way to word things so I didn't sound too mean or too sappy. "Look... this would normally the part where I invite you to join the X-Club, but-"

_"Save it."_

"That's what I figured. We'd love to have you, but right now it's so crowded that it'd probably drive you up a wall. At least here you got your own room."

The corner of her mouth twitched upward. "Yes. When that amphibious idiot isn't breaking into it."

"Just keep a lock on your underwear drawer," I told her sagely. "Everything else is whatever, right?"

Her eyes laughed, even if she couldn't bring her mouth to do it. "I agree." As she struggled for words, I noticed her cheeks flushing from trying to figure out how to behave. Guess for a second there, she really  _was_  the Scarlet Witch. "It... was nice talking with you, I suppose."

"Likewise. See you in class?"

Maybe I said it in some kinda tone that I wasn't aware of, but she gave me the doom glare like you wouldn't believe. "You will not. There are... other things I must do."

"Are you sure? I mean, you're our age. Maybe a little Biology Two wouldn't kill ya."

It shut her up, and cut off her evil eye. Why did she look so sad all of a sudden? A moment later, with a slight nod, she left.

No, Wanda isn't who I'd dropped by to visit. Still, it wasn't half bad shooting the breeze with her for a minute or two. Maybe in another lifetime, where she hadn't been locked up and turned into a nutjob by her less-than-compassionate dad, we could have hung out in school together, kicked it on the weekends. Guess we'll never know.

Once I'd checked the rest of the house, I made my way upstairs. I knew full well where I was going. I eased open the door, knocking as I did.

"Come in." When I made no move to do so, I heard, "Close the door behind you."

Only then did I do it. "Fine. You got me here, I'm all alone. We about to start some grudge match?"

Mystique was sitting on the edge of her bed, hands folded in front of her, eyes pointed at the floorboards. Everything about her reminded me of a caged tiger, anxious and jumpy and ready to run at a moment's notice. It took her a minute or so to gather her thoughts, and even then she didn't look at me.

"This..." She sighed, fidgeting with her fingers. "I apologize, Rogue. I'd hoped that when the day for this conversation came, I'd be better prepared. I've certainly gone over it enough times in my mind."

"Hurry up," I told her, leaning back against the dresser. "We ain't got all day. I should be helping rebuild the mansion you burned down, in case you forgot."

She shot me the tiniest fleeting look; it was quick and totally racked with guilt. "I don't know what to say to you. This isn't as easy as I expected it to be... and I expected it to be excruciating."

"Then just bite the bullet and get it over with."

Another sigh. What had her so worked up? "Rogue... Anna... I wanted to tell you so many times..."

My eyes narrowed to slits. I could barely see her that way, but it was a reflex; in that second I went from slightly annoyed to royally pissed. "How... do you even know that name?"

"Listen-"

"Only the Professor knows it – and I'd rather he didn't." My fists balling, I glared down at the Brotherhood's figurehead and demanded, "Who the hell did you torture to get your mitts on it? Huh? Answer me!"

She gave up. I saw the change, saw her deflate like a hot air balloon that's lost all its fuel. "A mother knows."

Cold shakes hit me, and I felt my feet trying to slide out from under my weight. "Wh... I don't get what you're saying. What's going on? What are you trying to tell me, here?"

"It was Destiny who prompted me to adopt you," she charged ahead, tone becoming more businesslike as she made up her mind to get through this as quick as she could. "Her visions of the future are nearly always accurate. Knowing who you might become one day, I couldn't leave you to drift around in the system."

"You're so full of it," I growled, beyond angry now. "I know you're not... don't give me that! Irene is the one who adopted me, not you!"

"That is the name you know Destiny by, yes. But she isn't the one who signed your papers; it was me. I took you in, I raised you from a babe. Only when I realized my actions and responsibilities would demand I be away from you for weeks at a time did I entrust you to her care on a full-time basis. Though even after that, some of those times you were talking with Destiny..."

"It was really you?" I guessed, my fingers white-knuckling on the dresser behind me. It was the only thing holding me up. "You impersonated my foster mom, for what, so you could check in on your pet project?"

"That isn't all there is to this," she pleaded. Her tone was still all superior and had that hard edge it always does, but I couldn't pretend I didn't hear that sickening note of vulnerability creeping in at the corners. "Rogue, I know you better than you know yourself; I do care for you. I care for both of my children, deeply, honestly. But... it was clear to me from the very beginning that I would never make a good mother."

"You're  _not_  my mother!" I snapped, my voice breaking. "Shut up, you don't know me at all, why are you pulling this crap?" When she didn't reply, waiting for me to shout myself hoarse, something she'd mentioned clicked into place. "Wait...  _both_ of your children. Kurt..."

"By law, Kurt Wagner is your brother."

" _Brother,"_  I whispered. "Why? Why didn't I get to know any of this?"

"You weren't meant to." She turned away from me, breathing hard, heel drumming out a nervous beat on the floor. "As I've said, I know I'm a poor excuse for a maternal figure. For all the things I might teach you, I would still fail you in most of the important ways. Destiny – Irene, she was far better suited. She is kind and compassionate, while I am-"

"A bitchmonster."

"Yes." I looked up, surprise watering down my rage for a moment, but she was smiling a bleak, pained smile. "Did you think I would disagree? There are many reasons I have become as cold and distant as I have, but they matter little to you. It is too late for me to morph into Donna Reed... even though I could superficially do so."

"Who?"

She shook her head, dismissing that as unimportant. Guess it was. "I have been watching over you, my wayward Rogue. All your life. And I will continue to do so from afar. It is unlikely we will ever have a true relationship, but my affection for you-"

"Oh, save it," I cut her off, folding my arms to keep me from trying to peel the paint off the furniture. "You have no affection. None at all. There's nothing left but hate in your black heart."

"You are wrong. Still, I won't try to convince you otherwise when you so clearly doubt me."

My lip trembled. "I have to ask... I... do you know... I mean, any idea who-"

"No," she told me softly, almost kindly. "There is no record whatsoever of who your real parents are. I searched thoroughly; not because I wanted to reunite you, but because I wished to better understand how you came to gain the powers you have. You were abandoned with no papers and nothing with which to identify you, so if you ever had another identity it is a mystery to us all. It was the priest at the cathedral who christened you with the name you grew up knowing."

"So what," I said snarkily, "am I supposed to be Anna Marie Darkholme? Is that what it says on my birth certificate or something?" Then, when she nodded, I felt my airways closing up, like I'd caught a lungful of pollen. "Oh,  _God..._ "

"I have made it clear you are my adopted daughter, which means yes, you bear my surname. It seems a touch moot."

"Got that right," I choked out, despising my voice for breaking like it did.

"Rogue, I do not tell you this to upset you," she said quietly. "Only to make you aware."

"Then why now? Why drop all this on me today, some random number on the calendar? Is my birthday coming up, is that it?"

"Search your heart, my child. I think you know why this has come to pass."

We were both quiet for about thirty seconds. That's how long it took me to put it together.

" _Risty."_

"Your friend can be... quite insistent."

I darted away from her, running to the window and staring out at the grass and trees and anywhere but that vile woman who was trying to kill the tiny shreds of sanity I had left. "No... she knew all this time, she- why would she hide it from me?"

"I'm not entirely sure." Hesitation, just a little. "But, if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say she couldn't bear to tell you herself. Why she thinks coming from me it would matter more or be less hurtful, I cannot say, but..."

"She was way off."

Suddenly, Mystique was right behind me, her hands laying on my shoulders. I shrugged them away, a primal growl escaping my throat (it's a sound I didn't even think I could make), but when she put them on me again I didn't have the willpower left to stop her twice. "Please, Rogue, I- I know you do not want this. I've spent too much time concentrating on my own endeavours, focusing on mutantkind as a whole, neglecting what was truly important... by now, I know my flaws well enough that I can see what this must be doing to you, finding out I am a branch of your family tree."

"Shut up."

And then the worst thing ever happened. When I say "worst thing ever," I mean that it actually threatened to bump "the mansion blowing up" and "finding out I can't kiss boys ever again" from the top spots.

"I'm so sorry," Mystique sobbed. She was  _crying._  Totally, seriously crying big buckets of tears, and it made me want to hurl. How dare she think she deserves any sympathy? "I can't- I didn't want- you, and Kurt, and everything I've ever... all of my schemes and personal triumphs amount to a dunghill in light of the crimes I've committed against my own children. Wh... what  _am_  I?"

Okay, I gave her a little something. There wasn't much I was willing to, but for about fifteen seconds I let her hold onto my back, let her cry. I wanted to punch her lights out, but the sound was so terrible and disgusting and upsetting to me that I couldn't do anything, couldn't move. So I let it happen for a while, let her spew out those icky emotions. And then I spoke in a whisper.

"I don't know what you are. But you are not my mother." Then I pulled away, and she didn't follow. Maybe a foot, barely enough to break the connection. "Neither is Irene, not after this. I... I have no family.  _None._ "

"I am sorry, Rogue, but that isn't true." Her tone was still moist, but there was a glint of steel under it; she wasn't going to budge. "You will always be part of my household, even if you disown me. For both the sake of our future, and the sake of your well-being, I shall never stop caring for you."

"Then watch over me from afar, like you said. Because you and I? We will never,  _ever_  be good." Mustering all my gumption, I whirled and stared her in the face, our noses an inch or two apart. "You tried to kill my best friend. Three or four times, right? You blew up my home, you abandoned my brother, you kidnapped Professor X... what did you think I would do, ask to go on a mother-daughter spa trip?" I faltered, trying not to think too hard about the broken look on her face, the forlorn longing I saw there. It hurt – it actually  _hurt_  to watch. "You're no mother, you're no friend. It's way too late for a crazy old leopard like you to change her spots. All you do is spread misery wherever you go, and you don't even care. So get out of my life and quit ruining it!"

To my extreme anger, her hand drifted up and stroked my hair, tears still sliding down her cheeks. The way she looked then... it was almost enough to get me crying, too. But there was no way I was gonna let her see me like that. She hadn't earned the right.

"I love you, Daughter." Then Mystique turned away, clutching her upper arms, back shaking. "Go. I've said my peace."

"You  _love_  me," I breathed, outraged.

"Yes. Whether or not you wish to accept it, or ever will, I..." She cleared her throat self-consciously, still not turning to look at me again. "It seems my brief stewardship of your young friend's simpering soul has made this world-weary harridan go soft. After the Sentinel disaster, and your imprisonment... I would not have forgiven myself if I lost you again without having said it, even just once when it causes you agony. Do not expect me to apologize for it."

I took several heaving breaths, trying to calm myself, but it wasn't working. Not at all. I had to get out, and quick. "Then don't. Don't ever talk to me, don't come near me. And you stay away from Risty!"

Now she gave a slight laugh. "Risty has... nothing to fear from me anymore."

The room was silent for over a minute. It was one of the longest minutes of my life, her staring into the corner, me watching her back and trying to burn a hole through it with my eyes. Then I spat out the word "Good" and high-tailed it outta there, slamming the door in my wake.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

_"UGH!"_

"Had enough, Lavender?" Logan goaded me over the loudspeaker.

"Hardly!" I cackled. Maybe when I say "cackle" I mean "wheeze pitifully" in this instance, but who's really paying attention to petty details like that? "Bring it on!"

"You asked for it, bub."

That is, of course, the very moment the door to the Danger Room slid open. I dropped my hands to check on the reason for this, and the training robot decked me with all its might.  _"Whoof!_ Cor blimey, but that smarts!" Laughing, I gave the voice command to end the simulation as I pushed to my feet. But the moment I caught sight of Rogue's furious dial, I felt my stomach vanishing into thin air.

" _You."_

"Ah." Smiling sweetly, I called up toward the ceiling, "Logan?"

"I'm takin' five already," he sighed in that adorable gruff tone of his. "Damn gossipy kids..."

Once I decided Wolverine was no longer listening in, I turned back to my mate and sniffed, wiping the droplets of saline solution from my forehead and droplets of blood from beneath my nose. "What can I do for ya?"

"You...  _suck._ "

I nodded, gulping. This was shaping up to be entirely the worst few minutes in the history of mankind. "Then it went rather poorly, I gather?"

"'Rather poorly'. That's all you got to say?" She stalked over to me, and I backpedaled as her finger jabbed into my chest, perhaps hard enough to bruise. "You  _lied_  to me!"

"When did I lie?" I protested, hands held up, palms open. "Never once did I say, 'Rogue, Mystique couldn't possibly be your adoptive mother!' Did I? If I did, then I dare you to list the time and date, because-"

"You should have told me! Don't you think I had a right to know that the stupid two-faced tramp is my  _MOM?"_

"Of course you did, luv," I soothed as she shook me by the shoulders; my words came out in slight vibrations. "But it wasn't my place to tell you."

"Sure it was! You're my best friend, you  _have_ to tell me shit like that!"

"It was her responsibility, not mine!" I yelped. "I wasn't going to do her dirty work!"

"Are you seriously trying to-"

"She's your sodding  _mother_ , for Christ's sake!" I shouted back, suddenly angry myself. Whenever did that happen? Probably had something to do with her blaming me over Mystique withholding information – and over Mystique making this argument necessary in the first place with her astounding cowardice. "It's the least she could do for you after tossing you on Irene's doorstep and leaving you floundering in a world ill-prepared for your unique gifts! So I was quite dead-set on having her own up to her own mistakes with her own barbed tongue, even if it meant twisting her arm to make it come to pass!"

"But maybe I didn't  _want_ to know this!" she protested, eyes streaming, face contorted. "Maybe this is the last thing I wanted to find out about! As long as I didn't know, I could imagine my parents were out there, wondering what had happened to their baby, looking for me, missing me! But now I know they dropped me off at a church like a bag of old clothes, and Magneto's downsized assassin thought I might be useful someday, and that's the whole reason I'm even still alive by now! Why in the hell would I want to know  _any_  of that?"

"It doesn't matter if you did or didn't want it – because I'm fairly certain you didn't! You had the  _right!_ Didn't you claim not two seconds previous that you did? She should have told you ages ago, and shoot it all to buggery, she needed to do it herself! What would be the point if it came from me?"

"At least it would... it woulda come from somebody I love, not somebody I'd love to run over in a pickup truck!"

I rested my fists on my hips. Deep down within the hidden crawlspaces of my inner being, I felt this iota of my heart squeal with glee when she told me I counted as a loved one. Mostly, though, I was still miffed. "Be that as it may, it's too late. If you're really cross that I made this judgement call, then I'm sorry you feel that way. But I thought it was the right thing then, and even now I uphold that decision. She had to be the one coming clean, the same way I came clean that Mystique had shanghaied my body and that I'm only partially alive. I couldn't face the music on her behalf."

It seemed I was at last getting through to her; her breathing was still ragged and her eyes still leaked, but she remained silent, merely glaring at me, trying to come up with a searing retort. We had a long wait.

When she finally turned away just enough so she couldn't see me anymore, I said, "Rogue-"

"Leave me alone."

I nodded; it was plain that she wasn't going to get over such an ugly revelation overnight. "Danger Room's all yours."

And out I went, ripping off my gloves as I walked, inwardly dreading the damage Raven had dealt to my gal pal. Since, as always, it would be up to me to mop up my "better" half's messes.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XXII


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's my driving? Call 1-800... wait, actually don't call anything. Just review.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

Oh  _freaking_  boy. Welcome back to Bayville High, y'all.

Let me get you caught up. One morning, right after Kitty and Kurt chase a bunch of punks our own age away from our property (leaving their precious cans of spray paint behind), the Professor announces that we're going back to class. We still don't have a home, but it's time to hit the books? Stellar.

Hey, though, it doesn't stop there. Not only do we get to hobnob with the non-mutants and try to pretend that everything's cool, but we're strictly forbidden to use our powers. Yay! So let's say I get cornered by six girls with badminton rackets who have a real hate-on for  _Homo superior_. What am I gonna do,  _angst_  them into submission?

It's part of the President's whole deal. Since we're the only group of "muties" in the whole wide country that happen to be in the public eye, we're setting the precedent here. If we can go to school and just study and take notes and fill out pop quizzes like the normal kids do, than everything's fine. But if we blow it, if we're in a pep rally and everybody gets turned into vampires or evil chihuahuas, then when the school board meets later in the evening to vote on our fates, our asses are grass. Goodbye "standard public school experience", and hello " _special_  mutant education wing".

Sometimes I wish I was a bunny. You know what I mean? Bunnies don't have to worry about segregation, or racial politics, or wondering if they're going to be lynched today. Nobody hates bunnies. They're kinda universally accepted.

Or maybe an eagle. Something like that, flying high above the clouds – a  _protected_  species, not a reviled one. But I'm getting way off track.

I think what hurt the most was not seeing Jubilee or Rahne or those guys in class. Yeah, their parents pulled them back home to their various states after the "mutant menace" was all over the news. Xavier said he didn't blame them, since he promised they'd be taken care of and he thought he failed. How could he have, though, when he was stuck in a giant test tube? Either way, it threw a damp towel over our already-dampened spirits.

That all sucks, but I was too deep in my own head to care. There was another, much worse thing hanging over me like a thundercloud, something that made the PTA's opinion of me seem like a tiny grain of sand on a giant beach of melancholy (that's almost beautiful, I should hang onto that one and use it again someday).

I'm Mystique's kid. How in Hades can that be possible? I'd probably have gone off the deep end if I was actually related to her by blood, but being adopted by her is bad enough. She raised me, kept me out of shelters and the foster care system, made sure I had food and clothes and a roof over my head. And while Irene did some of that, too, now I knew Mystique was pulling her strings all along. So she could use me – I knew at some point that's what it was going to come to. I'd come in  _handy_. She could babble all day long about caring about me, and regretting that she didn't do right by me to begin with, but that was all hogwash. Mystique didn't know how to help anybody when there wasn't something in it for her.

Then there's Kurt. He's my brother? Again, not biologically, but it's still more family than I'd ever had before. And he'd been dealing with the Mystique thing for a while; I promised him I'd find out more, and boy did I. Way more. But I'm not sure this is the kinda thing he expected. Wasn't even sure he'd wanna know.

But enough brooding. Let's get back to the details of this new beginning.

Everybody hated us. Or, well, not everybody; Amanda, Kurt's old flame, was cool, but then again she already knew about mutants. The rest of the kids, however, were either wary, frightened, or downright mad.

Jean pretty much dumped her stupid jock boyfriend like a hot potato once he made it clear that he still approved of her despite her "problem" and that he wanted to use her psychic powers to (ahem)  _advance_  his academic career by less than honest means. Duncan didn't like that, but too bad, Mr. Letterman Jacket. I was proud of her.

The rest of the day dragged past in a long chain of boring and-or infuriating things, like having  _"Don't_  kick me or I'll melt your brain" signs taped to my back. Anti-mutant jokes already; that didn't take long. It was fun to watch some of our teachers either try to pretend we weren't there, or be  _too_ welcoming, like we were these foreign exchange students from the other side of the world instead of the same freaking people who'd been sitting in those desks forever. But now we weren't just the student with a white streak in her hair, or the student with the eye condition that required red sunglasses: we were  _mutants,_  these crazy alien beings that weren't even people but that the government said they had to treat with respect. They followed the letter of the law as best they knew how.

Lunch was the first time I could get away, and get away I did. Everybody cleared off when I found a table in the back of the cafeteria. Actually, I expected a bunch of kids to come up to me and start asking if there was life on Mars, but me, they left be. On the other side of the room, I could see Jean and Scott being bombarded with questions, and Kitty was more than happy to grant them an audience too, but I was happily alone with my gross pizza (anchovies  _again,_  dammit!) and my Walkman.

I  _was._

"Ooh," said this sudden voice as one of my earbuds was jerked out and relocated to another ear. "It's 'Medication', I  _adore_  that one! Isn't Shirley Manson's voice divine? She's my people, you know – well, so long as you're including  _all_  the Isles. It's a stretch, but I can still claim her."

"Hi to you, too, Risty."

Sensing my displeasure at having her interrupt my private time, she handed the earbud back to me and whispered, "Okay, okay, I'm not your favourite at the moment. But come on, are you really going to cold-shoulder me, give me the silent treatment?"

I didn't answer on purpose.

"Har, har."

"I don't know, alright?" I sighed, resting my forehead on my palm as I stabbed at the once-frozen carrots with my fork. "I got some big stuff laid on me, I... and you were privy to all of it, you could have told me anytime you wanted. And instead you covered it up."

"Not so much 'covered' as 'didn't volunteer', but I know." She fidgeted with the spout of her milk carton. "I... well, I'm sorry you were hurt, but I meant what I said; blackmailing her into confessing was the correct way of going about it."

I tried hard not to smile, but I couldn't help it. "You blackmailed her? With what?"

"Ah, ah, ah," she said playfully, waving her index finger in my face. "I did promise. I'll only divulge that it's nothing lethal or significant, but personally mortifying. Also, that I'll get more mileage out of it if I keep it under my chapeau."

"She used to be a pro wrestler?" I guessed.

"Something like that," she giggled.

"Risty... I don't know if I can forgive you just yet. I'm... come on, what do you want me to say here? That I'm hunky-dory now, that we're chums again? You did keep some pretty heavy stuff under your  _chapeau,_  and for a pretty long while. How can I trust you? What else are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "Fine. You want to know more about Raven's hand in your upbringing? Fire away."

I chewed on the inside of my lip for a second. "How old was I when she adopted me?"

"Four. Well, three when the paperwork was set in motion, four by the time it went through and she took you home."

"How long did she actually raise me for?"

"A few years," she grunted. "It's hard for me not to sympathise with her, knowing with absolute certainty  _every_  emotion she had at the time, but my own, separate consciousness fully understands that despite her feelings, the mistakes she made were still mistakes. It wouldn't have been so hard for her to take a little more time off from serving Eric's grim purposes to drop in and help you fill in a colouring book now and again."

For some reason, I felt my cheeks flushing. "Did... she really do stuff like that? Play with me, make me lunch, all those typical mom things?"

"Not nearly often enough, but yes." She hesitated. "Er... do you want an example, or would it be too weird? I'm not sure I'd want to hear it, knowing what a mangey cur she is."

"Go ahead. Ain't much difference now."

Risty smiled, but it was a pained, uncomfortable smile, like she was reliving some childhood trauma. Which she was, but it was  _my_  childhood, through the eyes of the parent involved. "She likes this one. When you were aged six... cripes, you were such a cute little cub! She took you to a playground. You skinned your knee, and you cried and cried, until she bought you an ice cream. Then, while you were distracted by the frozen treat, she disinfected the scrape and you only let out a tiny yelp, and as she bandaged it she felt proud of you, because even at that age you were so brave. Then she let you ride piggyback all the way to the car, and you laughed, and you dripped ice cream in her hair, and she didn't mind."

Tears were in my eyes. I angrily drove them away with my napkin. Partly because the story actually jogged my memory a smidgen – though I remember it being Irene, not Mystique. Which means she was incognito. "Going for mother-of-the-year, huh?"

"That is one of a meager handful of times." Risty picked up the stale cookie on her tray and threw it back down. "If there were hundreds of stories like that, she would deserve to call you her flesh and blood with pride in her voice. But there aren't. From the time you turned eight, she only interacted with you once or twice in person. Oh, often enough she would come by to discuss you with Irene, or go to your school and watch you for a few minutes to see how you were getting along, but..."

"Right," I laughed. I couldn't help it. "So pretty much, Mystique and Destiny got a divorce, and she lost custody."

"Not a bad analogy. Except she  _left._  No one drove her away, there were no unavoidable circumstances that prevented her from being a mother to you. Only  _perceived_  barriers, like her work with the Acolytes and the Brotherhood, her hidden agendas. She reasoned that trying to split her time between her duties to them and her duties to you would put too much strain on herself, and by extension, her daughter as well. It's a load of bilge, but that's what she thought."

"You know," I began quietly, my voice shaking more than I wanted it to, "it's actually pretty lucky that you were able to get inside her head."

"Why's that, luv?"

"Because otherwise, I'd never know how she thinks. That jaded hussy ain't really up front and open about anything. She just kept saying, 'I did what I had to,' and 'I'm sorry I wasn't there', but she never went into any detail about the way she felt. Doesn't mean I could ever love her, but... maybe I can hate her a little less."

"Don't fall into that trap," she warned. "Mystique is a dangerous woman, conniving and treacherous. I won't say don't reach out to her, form some bonds, but never, ever  _trust_ her. You'll wind up dead, or sucked into her world of deception."

"You think I don't know that already? After all the times she came gunning for you, just because you knew I was her daughter? I could write a book on how untrustworthy she is."

"I know you could. Just reminding you. I gotta look out for my best mate."

My heart felt chilled as I looked up at her, at lilac eyeshadow and purple hair and dark red lips. Her head was like the whole crimson end of the colour spectrum. "Risty... how am I supposed to look at you the same way again? It was bad enough before, but now I know that for half our relationship, you were... you were my  _mother._ "

"I know." She looked away quick, turning her tray in slow circles with nervous fingers. "I... it made me feel physically ill when she was in control. Because I knew she was your mother, and that in some wonky way, she counted hanging out with you as 'quality time', even though it was done under false pretenses. That's what finally put me back in control; because I hated knowing that, and that you thought you were with me. And I couldn't suffer through it any longer. I missed you.  _I_ missed you – missed being  _me_ when I was with you instead of watching her abuse our friendship. I'll never forgive her for that."

Finally, I turned my Walkman off and put it away in my bag. "So how am I supposed to forgive her if you can't, either?"

"Do or don't. That isn't up to me."

"Isn't it?" When she looked over at me sideways, I shrugged. "You know her better than anybody – better than she does. So you tell me. Does Mystique deserve any slack?"

"I do know – and that is why I'm not going to tell you. Because I know that for everything she's done wrong, every filthy, disquieting blunder she's made, she is still human. I'll give you the tools, I'll tell you all about her thought processes and your family vacations and whatnot, but in the end, I can't choose for you. You're going to have to be the one who decides whether or not she's earned hatred... or pity."

"But you can't forgive her. You said that yourself, and if you can't, it's reason enough for me to go on thinking she's the worst creep who ever lived."

Risty was already shaking her head before I finished. "No, Rogue. Don't take up my cause. I have my own personal reasons. She's not  _my_ family – even if at times I think of her as a sister after all the time we spent in the same brain."

"So it comes back to her raising me. Back to her putting me up in a house, paying for my duds and food and medical bills and stuff."

"Ulterior motives aside, she did those things."

"Does she really care about me?" I pleaded, gripping her forearm tight. "I mean,  _really_  really, not just because I've got special powers that might serve some purpose down the line? Can you tell me, do you know that?"

"She does, Rogue. Her definition of 'care' is fundamentally flawed, but in her mind you are more precious than any other human being. Second in line is Kurt."

"Second?"

Risty flashed me a hollow smile. "Isn't it twisted? Kurt is her biological offspring, he came from within her womb, but you are more dear to her. To be blunt, it  _is_  because of Destiny's visions; knowing of your supposed importance to mankind gave you a coveted position in her heart. It's true, even if the reason behind it is an abomination of what motherly love is supposed to be."

"That's... that's really screwed up, Risty. She's crazy."

"In a way, it's sweet," she said with distaste. "That she doesn't place blood above all else. And it's not all about your power; she has more memories of raising you personally, it forged stronger bonds. She, er,  _grew_  into caring about you. Kurt, on the other hand, she left alone; his foster parents were nurturing, so she never visited for fear of disrupting his home environment. Not that she didn't check in on him... from a distance."

"Is it weird that I do pity her?" I whispered as the bell rang. I couldn't make myself move, didn't care that I had to get to class soon. "I'm not sure it's enough to forgive her, but once she made those stupid mistakes, giving up Kurt and leaving me with Irene... it really sounds like she regretted them. And that she loved us, in her own half-assed way. God, I just don't  _get_  her, why couldn't she be a real mom instead of playing all these stupid games?"

"She wanted to, but she was afraid." Risty stood, and I followed her lead as we put up our trays. "That's what it comes down to, luv; she was too scared that she'd mess everything up. For all her grandstanding and bravado, she couldn't face the consequences of her mistakes, so she hid like a weakling behind missions and sketchy logic. She's scarcely been shown any compassion in her own life, so she doesn't understand how it works."

I let out a grunt of a laugh. "You're almost trying to sell me on forgiving her."

"I am not," she complained. "Don't throw my own words back at me."

"Well, you  _are_  going out of your way to explain why she did the things she did, that it's just who she is and she doesn't know any better. You're making a pretty strong case for her."

"Then I'm sorry I even opened my gob."

Then, as we laughed, I started to feel less yucky. About midway through the conversation, I became really uncomfortable talking to Risty; like I said to her, it's weird enough that she used to be one and the same as Mystique, but having her be my mom, too... all those conversations we had, private ones about boys and stuff, and knowing that Mystique had been listening in, even  _maneuvering_  them, wasn't just strange. It was disgusting. But if I blamed Risty for that, I'd be no better than the non-mutant kids who blamed us for being born different. There wasn't a damn thing Risty could do about the accident that fused her with the woman who adopted me, and the first chance she had to strike back, she took it. Far as honesty goes, she did fess up to being the back half of Mystique's horse costume; sobbing in her Escort with Marilyn Manson on the radio. Man, that seemed like forever ago...

The thing about her hiding my mother's identity started to lose its shock value. It hurt, a lot, but her reasons made sense; if I had a secret like that, and there was somebody else I knew oughtta be the one to tell it, I'd keep pestering them until they caved. And there sure wasn't any other reason Mystique would have told me out of the blue. So it hurt, but it also showed me just how much my best friend cared about me. Mixed blessings... I got 'em in spades.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

The rest of the day flew by. There were one or two flare-ups with kids picking on mutants, or getting too curious, but we did okay. Kitty and I had to help Scott face down Duncan and his football cronies, but nobody got hurt, nothing really bad happened. Jean also got benched during basketball practice because they accused her of using mutant powers to sink a shot, but hey, that beats fighting Sentinels. And then we were home free – well, until the assembly that night.

The Brotherhood guys showed up at school. Ain't that nice? Kurt and I talked with Wanda a little bit between classes. Yep, she actually showed, but she was still really, uh... grouchy. Lance, Fred and Toad acted like they owned the hallways, strutting around and daring anybody to mouth off to the  _big bad mutants._ That's all our image needs!

Back at the Institute – or what was left of it – we all showered and got dressed in our nicest clothes and headed over to the school board meeting. As the Prof said, "Let them look you in the faces when they vote, so they can see the people behind the powers." So off we went to get us some face-time. He and Jean went ahead with the rest of us catching up later; I think he wanted her to make a speech or something.

Because I don't feel like going into detail (and I'd rather forget the whole thing), let's just say Duncan and the Brotherhood Boys showed up and tried to spoil it for everybody, ambushing us outside the building. Lance carved up the landscape with his earthshaking ability, earning him Kitty's undying hatred; she was so over him from that day on. But we held our own... even without our powers. All that combat training has to come in handy sometime, right?

Then all the parents and teachers flooded outside to see what the hubbub was about. Only then did we start using our powers; of course, Risty and I didn't, but Kurt, Kitty and Jean made with the abilities to keep innocent people from getting hurt. Realizing the kid gloves were off, Avalanche and his flunkies skedaddled.

It was so stupid. Here we were, trying to prove we were just normal kids with some abnormal challenges, and we've got a parking lot that went up in flames; exploded cars, broken pavement, smoke in the air. Talk about self-defeating. God, I could  _strangle_  those Brotherhood douchebags!

Then, the next morning, we got some surprising info, straight from the big man himself.

"Before I announce the school board's decision, I'd like to say how proud I am of all of you."

Scott clenched his fist. "How can you say that, Professor? We let you down."

"Yeah," Kitty said quietly. "It doesn't take a genius to know how they voted."

"You saved their lives. Jean inspired them with her sincerity. And as a result... they want to welcome you back."

Everybody besides the Prof exchanged some glances of shock. Risty raised her eyebrows at me, and I shrugged back.

"Huh, go figure," Evan mumbled.

"Sorry, Professor," Jean began delicately as she walked toward him, "but... it's a little of the 'good news, bad news' kind of thing."

Xavier nodded, ratcheting up his 'inspiring speech voice', even though he still looked as depressed about the situation as we felt. "I realize this is not an easy time for you, but please try to appreciate this: for whatever reason, you have been chosen to take the first step into this new world. To lead the way; to be a beacon of hope for mutants yet to come. This is not only a big responsibility, it is an  _honor._  I'm always astonished at the wondrous things that can be built on the ashes of tragedy. For even in the face of bigotry and discrimination, the X-Men will endure."

No matter how he sugar-coated it, going to a school full of mutant-haters and forced to play nice still sounded like a bad plan. But how could we refuse? We're  _beacons,_ now. Whoopee.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XXIII


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this update... but yet again, I've had a computer crisis. Don't you envy my luck? AAGH! Do you know what it's like to have a one-year-old laptop that's so shiny you can see your face in the casing... and find yourself rummaging around for that jalopy from a bygone era that still runs XP? Bah. Anyway, my current machine is in The_Shop and I'm looking at between $50-$100 bill, but it should only take a few (more) days. Luckily, I had most everything backed up on my 1TB external as I've been extremely neurotic about my data since the last meltdown. So yes, sorry to make you wait an extra few days... but that's how long my old laptop takes to boot up. -_-

Another day passed almost exactly like the one before it. Now we were technically off probation and allowed to go back to our fancy book-learning, but we all knew the score: any hint that we were cheating or doing harm to the other kids with our powers meant instant expulsion... and we'd probably end up back in Area 51. No pressure, right? I mean, it's not like we zapped all our classmates willy-nilly anyway, but having them watching,  _waiting_  for us to screw up is way more scrutiny than we needed.

After phys-ed, a couple of girls jumped me. Now I don't mean they literally came outta nowhere and gave me some compound fractures, but they cornered me in the locker room, asking stupid questions and generally making me wish I wasn't there.

"What are you?"

"I heard some of you can shoot laser beams and stuff."

"Can you fly?"

"Why is your hair white in the front? Is that part of your mutie deal, or is it just a dye job? Wicked highlights, either way."

Yeah, I know they weren't trying to be cruel, but I still didn't like it. Couldn't they tell how uncomfortable they were making me? When I tried to push my way past them, one of them grabbed me – and I got a splash of memories and a tiny trickle of juice. She stepped back and her knees buckled.

"What did you  _do_ to her?"

"Nothing," I whispered. "She did it to herself. Don't touch me."

"Why the heck shouldn't she?"

"No, I mean it, don't  _touch_  me." The girl backed up a step, eyes wide, supporting her woozy friend. "That's it. Just... just don't touch me."

And then I left. I left the gym, I left the school... I got detention for skipping out, but I didn't care. There's a point you reach when you've had a bellyful, y'know?

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Rogue?"

I kept perfectly still. "What?"

"You... it's time for supper. Coming out for a bite?"

"Not hungry."

"Alright." When I heard the door close, I figured Risty had left me in peace. So I went back to crying into my pillow and hating the way everything was. Until she decided to try frightening me to death. "You okay?"

 _"God!"_  I snapped, whirling on her. "You scared the  _bejeebers_  outta me, what are you doing, sneaking around? Is this part of your crash course in ninja training?"

"I'm sorry, luv," she breathed cautiously. "Didn't mean to startle you, I just wanted to ask-"

"Well, I'm fine," I spat, glaring at her. "So fine, in fact, that you can just go on and eat without me. So go."

"Can't feed me that line, Rogue. Something's up."

"Well,  _Mom_ , you can stop worrying about your little Anna. She's gonna be right as rain by tomorrow, you'll see."

Risty's eyebrow cocked. "Do you honestly think that was funny?"

"Yes." When she only kept staring at me with that eyebrow up, I sighed. "No. I dunno, okay? Nothing's making sense today."

"Then let me set you straight; don't call me your mum. Ever again. Or I might vomit directly onto your bedsheets."

I nodded. "Sorry, you're right."

"I know I am. About that, I'm the utmost authority." Then she ran a hand over her face impatiently, as if trying to get rid of an itch. "Rogue... you can shut me out because of that if you like, but I'd rather you didn't. I cared about you before Mystique tried to sully it, and I didn't stop when she left the building."

"Can you maybe give me just a little longer than two days to get used to this?" I demanded. "Yeah, I understand the difference. Yeah, I understand you didn't do any of it on purpose, that you were her pawn the same as me. But  _shit,_  I'm freaking out all the time, and it never lets up!"

Risty sat next to me, and I fought the urge to crawl away from her. "I heard about what happened. In the locker room."

That's when I sat up and leaned my elbows on my knees. "Great. The whole school's gonna be blaming me for 'attacking' some kid."

"Actually, the girl you zapped is getting detention, as well." When I looked up to see if she was joking, she smiled. "The nitwit was dim enough to relate the entire incident in great detail to the vice principal, who decided she was equally to blame for accosting you in the first place. Of course, you've still got your own sentence to serve for skiving off..."

"That, I can handle." I hesitated. Maybe it makes me a bitch, but what I still wanted most was for her to leave me alone so I could wallow in misery. But she had barged in on me, and now she was gonna have to wallow along with the leader. (Get it? "Wallow the leader"? Guess it's not that funny.) "Why can't I touch anyone without half-killing them? Why me? I didn't ask for this curse."

"Wish I could say," Risty breathed. "I didn't ask to be dead, either. Here we might insert platitudes about making lemonade or silver linings or something. In the end, though, having this bloody X-gene is a real drag."

"At least you can come into contact with people and they can walk away from it. Risty, I am  _poison._  I'm friggin' radioactive. They really should just lock me up and swallow the key."

"I'd visit you. Write you letters, slip you cigarettes to use as currency."

"Would you go to the Supreme Court and lobby for my release?"

"Every day of my mutant afterlife."

I couldn't help it; I laughed. It was the last thing I felt like doing, and I did it anyway because Risty made it so easy to laugh sometimes. Then I threw my arms around her neck and dragged her down next to me on the cot, sobbing into her shoulder, bawling and bawling until I was out of tears to cry. She never tried to head me off, just let me do what I needed to ease the ache in my chest.

"Don't ever leave again."

"But I'm hungry," she whined. "The food's going to be stone cold!"

"No, don't joke. I'm not kidding – don't go back to England, don't get in any more accidents. I need you around. You're all that's keeping me from total meltdown."

"Pish tosh. You're stronger than you let on. This I know."

"And hey, I'm sorry I was so gripey about the whole Mystique deal. It's not your fault, and I oughtta know better than that by now."

"Water under the bridge." Her hand wound into my hair as she rested her chin on my crown. "But I won't leave. Nowhere to go, no business meetings to call me away. Don't worry about that bit."

"Let's go scarf something," I said suddenly, bolting to a sitting position so fast that I made my own head spin. "I... whoa, little dizzy. Probably should bump up my blood sugar."

"We don't have to for my sake; we could hang back if you need more time."

"Nah," I laughed nervously. "I can hear your stomach growling from here. Time to get some grub in ya."

"If you're sure," she said warmly, squeezing my shoulder as we stood and left. "But don't blame me if you're bludgeoned by food shrapnel, because I'm about to attack this meal without reservation. Sustenance, thy bane is Lazarus!"

I giggled and smacked her on the arm as we headed for the temporary dining room.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

That night...

That night. Yeah.

Before we get into it, let's start with dinner. It was nice, the food was good, and Kitty offered to phase a few cans of lard into the stomachs of those girls from gym as payback. Making them fat wouldn't really balance out what they did, so I told her it wasn't necessary, but it's the thought that counts.

Then we all got down with some video games; the Prof had bought us a replacement for our PlayStation that had been buried in the rubble, because he's always been pretty wise about knowing that his kids need recreation as much as they need training and education. So I watched Risty own everybody in sight for a few hours before I went off to bulk up my brawn in the Danger Room. Then a shower, a quick glass of juice, brushed my teeth (ugh, I  _hate_  the flavor combination of OJ and toothpaste) and hit the hay.

Risty wasn't there yet. She and Kurt were talking when I last saw her, and Kurt didn't look so thrilled. I could only imagine what she was telling him, and I'm betting it had nothing to do with Tekken tips. Poor guy... but hey, at least now he'd learn about his brand spankin' new sister. Whether or not he wanted to learn was beside the point now.

It was much later when Risty came to bed, and I could hear by the way she moved that she was exhausted. Emotionally-draining talks with teleporting blue elves had that effect on a girl. Then I felt her sliding into the cot, which wasn't that strange... until I felt her touch me, and she spasmed like being electrocuted.

_"OI!"_

_"What?"_ I gasped, rolling over and pressing back into the wall. "Oh crap, you didn't feel- I'm not suddenly able to-"

"No, no," she hissed, a tired smile cropping up. "No osmosis, I'm still immune. I thought tonight was my turn up here, that's all. Guess I should watch where I'm sleeping."

"Hey, I think you're right; my bad. Hang on, I-"

"Don't." When I didn't respond after a second and neither had she, her hand touched my shoulder. "If it's alright... I'm not trying to roust you."

It was so much weirder now. I felt it, like horror movie music was about to start – you know, that single, drawn-out high note from a violin that sends a prickle down your spine. The girl I was lying in bed with used to be my mom. She was my best friend  _and_  my mom for a while. But I knew she wasn't really; it was just the idea that Mystique had used her once before that skeeved me, and the part where Risty remembered all of it. Did this count as mother-daughter bonding, too? All these asinine thoughts wouldn't go away, no matter how hard I tried to force them out.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"You can probably figure."

A glum nod. "Yeah."

"I'm really sorry," I said, and I meant it way more than before. "But I can't help it, Risty. It's... strange."

"Then I'll move back to the floor."

"No, don't go!" I hissed urgently, and she hesitated. "Don't... I don't think it's gonna help. I'll still be thinking about it, so... so stay and tell me stuff to make me feel better. Unless y-you... unless you wanna go."

She chewed the inside of her lip; I could just barely see the action in the low light. Then, nodding, she moved forward and pressed her body flush with mine.

_"Risty, wh-what-"_

"Shh," she soothed, hand snaking up my back and holding there, face pushing into my neck. "Feel me."

I did – there wasn't much else I could do, was there? "Okay," I squeaked.

"This is me. Can you feel my heart beating, air flowing in and out of my lungs? It's  _me._  That old bat's memories might be floating around up here, but it's no different than when you nip a little from someone with your own ability. Refuse from the past – information I've downloaded. But it's Risty Wilde in here, you got that? This is Risty Wilde's mind in Risty Wilde's meat-sack, and nothing else. Just because you've had a recent brush with Juggernaut doesn't mean I'm lying next to him, does it?"

My nose crinkled at the word "meat-sack", but I nodded. That was something I desperately needed to hear; that her remembering Mystique's past was the same as when I grifted someone's thoughts. My own experience told me that being forced to carry around antiquated recollections no more made me into a clone of somebody than if I'd stolen their undies. It was one of those moments where you can finally separate a tragic event from the people involved, and then you can start moving on with life. "Thank you. How is it you always know what to say to talk me off the ledge?"

"It's what best mates are for." Her tone became more jovial as she said, "And  _no,_  it has nothing to do with Raven. As we both learned, the few things she can understand about you she picked up from me, and not the other way 'round."

"Damn straight."

It was becoming yet stranger. Our legs were touching a lot more than usual; it was hot in the room that night, and I'd peeled off my pyjama pants in the hopes it would help. Risty wears shorts over her underwear, so she never has her legs covered that much. It didn't bother me; no, "bother" wasn't the right word. But it  _was_  strange.

"I know," she told me sheepishly. "Too much stubble. I promise I'll tackle that first thing in the morning."

I laughed, rubbing my leg against hers again to illustrate. "Yeah, I did notice that. But don't worry about it, it's no big thing."

"Ah, those feet are always like ice! Your blood circulation could use some seeing to."

It was super difficult to resist the urge to say "Yes, Mom", but I promised her I'd quit that. "Alright, alright, I get it. Want me to back them off?"

"That's okay, I'll warm them." Her feet rubbed along mine like she was trying to start a fire, and I squirmed and giggled. "What?"

"It tickles, you dope!"

"Pardon me, then," she laughed.

"And you should move your other arm, your hand is kinda stabbing into my-"

"Whoops! Hold on, let me... I think perhaps if-"

We both shifted up, a little to one side, and Risty slid the arm under my neck. One or two nudges later and we were comfortable.

And then we weren't.

Risty's shadowed eyes were exactly level with mine, and our noses were touching. None of her arms had moved again, but my higher hand was on her waist now, and the lower arm was stuck between four boobs, so its hand was resting on her collarbone. All kinds of closeness that I hadn't been anticipating when we shifted positions.

"Um..."

"My arm's out of the way now." Her mouthwash smelled like spearmint.

"Right," I breathed with a slight nod. "Nothing in the way."

The hand between my shoulderblades drew away, then slid over my chest; I shivered. It came to rest right in the center, the back of it against the back of mine.

"Goodness, your heart is racing."

There was so much skin touching mine – cool, smooth skin, perfect and soft and not setting off my power-vacuum. It felt incredible. "It is?"

Risty looked up again, mouthing wordlessly, unsure of what else to say. I watched her lips... watched them move in the dusky nightlight from the strip behind the shelving. What would it be like? I'd never had the chance to try it; anybody who might be my unsuspecting victim would end up in a coma. Except her.

One more inch...

"Rogue, wait," she whispered hastily, eyelashes fluttering. "What's going through your mind right now? Please tell me."

"Thinking is overrated."

But before I could act, quick as a flash, her fingers moved up from my chest to between our lips. It's sad and pathetic, but even that felt so amazing that it almost brought me to tears. From behind her hand, she said, "Don't do this. Not yet."

"And what is it I'm doing?"

"You're feeling... I don't know, but I'm going to say 'fragile', maybe? So I can't let you rush this and risk jeopardizing everything."

Snapping out of it, I lowered my gaze from her eyes to her hand, then pushed my face between her chin and her underarm. Risty hadn't showered since before school. Somehow, the lingering scent of deodorant and the tiniest hints of sweat trying to overtake it cleared my head. "I... wow, did that just happen?"

"It did. But then again, it didn't; nothing did. Alright?"

My face was red as a stoplight, I'm sure, now that my good sense was catching up with my brazen actions. That hot little room suddenly felt a whole lot hotter. "What is  _up_ with me? Is this-"

"Nope." When she felt me twitch at the finality of her statement, she decided to elaborate. "Don't talk about it, don't think about it. Because you'll only  _over_ think it to atoms. Go to sleep."

I let out a tiny laugh, and she did too since I was blowing air into her armpit. "How am I supposed to do that when you... when we're-"

"I'm going to roll over," she told me softly, gently. "Er, if you want to, we can spoon for a bit. If things go beyond the realm of normalcy again, I'll push off into the floor. Simple enough, in theory."

"But what if that's not what I want?"

"It's all you're getting, like it or lump it." When I only let out a nervous squeak, I suddenly found her finger in my nose, and I couldn't help but cackle at the sensation. "There, now. Chin up, buttercup. Rolling over in five, four..."

"Alright, alright, I get it." I backed up enough so she could face the other direction, then pressed up against her back as hard as I could.

"Rogue, you mustn't-"

"I just need this so bad," I hissed into her ear, causing her to shiver again, my arms squeezing her into me. "To touch somebody, to be close. And you're my best friend."

Her voice broke slightly as she replied, "That's what I'm here for."

We stayed like that for about an hour, afraid to move, afraid to talk or think, or even breathe. Every single moment of it felt exquisite, even if it was impossible for me to process my emotions. Finally, sleep came for me, and I was glad to let it; my brain wasn't prepared to stay awake any longer with her so near. Not after what almost happened. But even in my stupid, warped dreams of Kurt and I in the backseat of a minivan, fighting over our toys and Mystique yelling at us from the driver's seat to pipe down or we weren't going to Disneyland after all, the question wouldn't let me truly rest.

How  _did_  I feel about Risty?

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XXIV


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm extremely fond of the final scene from this chapter; even more than some of the Rogue/Risty scenes. I really wanted it in there somewhere, and this is where it ended up. I hope you like. 5 more chappies left!

Okay, so I'll tell you how I felt about Risty.  _Flabbergasted._

I awoke to find all our limbs tangled up together. It was a mite awkward, just like when I found her "love bite" on my face the morning after Mystique tried to give her some new airholes - only twice as bad since I knew it was my fault this time instead of hers. Me waking up woke her up, and we had a laugh about how messy our hair was, and we started grabbing up clothes to go wash and get dressed... and then we remembered. Like, at the same time, we both stopped what we were doing and gaped at each other, shocked that our thoughts hadn't gone back to it the minute we left dreamland. But the looks on each other's faces were so comical that we chuckled again, and then we put it out of our minds, acting like it never happened.

When we were together, anyway. The minute I was in the shower all by my lonesome, I curled up into a ball on the tile floor. Everything felt so  _insane._  That was the biggest problem, I think: that it wasn't good or bad. If it'd only felt good, I'd be all glowy, singing bubblegummy Mandy Moore songs as I washed up or something. If it'd been bad, I'd toss my cookies and then get over it. Stuck in that limbo, however... _that_  was aggravating. How was I supposed to deal with this on top of all my other problems?

Breakfast was uncomfortable, but only a little. Once we got the conversation rolling along, we kinda brushed the weirdness under the rug. Nobody else noticed anything, which was fine by me. Kurt seemed like he was in the dumps, though, so I spent an extra minute trying to cheer him up afterward.

"That's the bright side, I guess," he told me privately once we'd put our plates away. "Now I have a sister."

"You bet, Fuzzy One," I laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "Blood may be thicker than water, but adoption papers are legally-binding. You're my little bro for good."

" _Little?"_  he blustered. "But I am the firstborn, and you vere adopted later!"

"But you're shorter than me. I ain't callin' you 'big'  _anything,_  shrimp."

He swatted my hand off playfully, and I tousled his hair. I was still doing it when he teleported away, so I stumbled and almost fell. From across the kitchen came a fit of laughter, but by the time I turned toward it I was alone again. Little jerk.

Alone again. My brain flew back to that night like a bird migrating north once winter was over, eager to be home. Did I screw up so bad that it was gonna be like this forever? I didn't know, but I knew I didn't want to think about it right then. School would've been a great distraction if it wasn't Saturday. Why is it the days you  _want_  to have off you gotta go, and the days you  _don't_  you have free? Stupid educational system.

So the next best thing was the gym, where I went and stayed for hours, working off nervous energy in the form of pummeling the heavy bag. Scott and Evan dropped in and kept me company for a spell while they worked out, and I contented myself watching Scott flex and move, thinking about how cute his "serious face" is. And that brought on a whole other set of problems; I kinda had a thing for him, once upon a time. Didn't I still like him? Then what was all that craziness about with Risty?

On the other hand, Scott was beyond my reach for two very solid reasons: first that he had Jean, and second that we couldn't even hold hands if I wasn't wearing gloves. Nevermind anything more, uh,  _fun._  It'd almost be underhanded of me to trap somebody in a relationship where no touching is allowed. Reminds me of those guys who buy classic cars, get them fully restored, then don't let anybody drive them or ride in them – including themselves. What's the goddamn  _point?_

I couldn't look at Scott anymore. It was just too depressing. Time to head to the Danger Room; maybe if Logan put me through my paces again, that might be distracting enough that I could set my brain to standby for a few hours.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"Excuse me, Professor?"

The follicularly-challenged benefactor of the X-Men raised his eyebrows when I entered, looking away from the document Ororo Munroe was holding out for him to notarize. "Miss Wilde. A lovely surprise."

"Don't give me that, Sir," I chided shyly as I edged past the door. This was using up my pitiful stores of courage at an alarming rate, so I tried to be just clever enough that it wouldn't take too long to work around to my goal. "I'm sure you puzzled out that it was me from a kilometer away."

He smiled genially. "I did, of course, but I am loath to toot my own horn."

"Right. Er, if this is a bad time-"

"No, no, we were just wrapping up. Come in, sit. What's on your mind?"

"Don't you know already?"

He sighed, exchanging a weary glance with Storm as she stifled a laugh. "No one seems to believe me when I tell them I resist thought-dropping without permission unless it is absolutely necessary. I should hand out informative brochures..."

"I'll just go and see what Hank is up to," Ororo said, patting me on the shoulder as she swept from the War Room.

"Very well, then," he said as I sat across the table from him, fidgeting with the fabric of my khaki cargo pants. "What's the matter?"

"It's... I wondered if you could help me with something." When he didn't reply, merely waiting with his hands folded under his chin, I grimaced and ventured onward. "I wondered if you had the ability to... to set up walls within my mind. To block out bits."

"The bits of Mystique?" I squirmed, which he assumed was an affirmative response. "It shouldn't take a psychic to figure that one out. I'm sure she's the person you care for least in this world, and being plagued by her memories must be..."

"Naffing."

One of his eyebrows went up as he smiled. "If you say so. But are you sure this is what you want?"

"You  _can_  do it, then?" I asked, heart leaping.

"Possibly. It's a very tricky process, and doesn't always succeed. Most often, it's down to the ability of the subject, how well they can resist accessing the information. I'll warn you now that it's near impossible for me to  _wipe_  memories, destroying them and making it so they never come back. But I have had some luck with putting them behind a 'wall', as you put it."

"Then let's give it a go. Come on, then, I'm chomping at the bit!"

"Hold on," he chortled, brandishing a biro at me. "It's not a race against time, is it?"

"You don't understand," I pleaded with him, gripping the edge of the cold Perspex table as I leaned in. "Every day, I deal with this cropping up, this bilge of hers, and... and alright, it's been dead useful once or twice, but mostly it makes me feel like I'm not myself! Like there's been an insurrection in the halls of my noggin and that trollop has deposed me, the rightful ruler! I want control back! I want my  _life_  back!"

"Yes," he said slowly, thinking hard with a hand at his chin. He did that often, I recall. "I can concede that if Magnus, for example, were to forcefully fill my head with his experiences, I might feel a bit out of sorts for a while. And I don't want to begin to ponder what it was like for you in those days when the two of you shared a corporeal form."

"You really don't," I assured him.

"Even so, Lazarus, I wonder if this might not be about something else? Just a hunch, but... is it Rogue?"

My eyes narrowed. "You poking around in there right now, Chuckie?"

"No," he told me mildly. "But, in past instances when I found it necessary to probe Mystique's mind, I found something unsettling. Though I can't be certain why, she has an unnaturally strong deference for your friend's well-being." His gaze was penetrating, but I don't think he was using his powers on me. Yet. "Care to shed any light on that?"

"I'm surprised you haven't already sorted it, but... no, that's for her to share, not me. I will tell you that Rogue is fully apprised now; she knows what I know."

He nodded, resigned. "It is a personal matter, I take it? Then I'll keep my theories to myself, and I won't go fishing for answers in your borrowed memories. But I'd appreciate it if you encouraged Rogue to come to me if it looks like something that may pose a threat in the future."

"Got it, Chief."

"Meanwhile, am I to guess that these memories of Mystique's are upsetting Rogue somehow? Due to you knowing them, I mean."

I tried, valiantly, to keep my cheeks from blossoming with scarlet. I failed. "S-something like that."

Suddenly, Charles Xavier looked surprised and slightly embarrassed; I can only assume, given that he's said as much to me on one other occasion, that I was broadcasting such a pungent anxiety and bashfulness that it must have been like erecting a billboard right in front of him that depicted (how can I make this sound less grotesque?) my _fluctuating feelings_. In the time since that day, I've learned that the man was no stranger to the ways of the heart in his own life, but I don't think he often discussed such things with his subordinates. Eventually, he coughed into his fist, then gave me a would-be casual smile. "Right. Well, then, perhaps I will take some time to contemplate the situation. We could certainly use the data to our advantage should Mystique renege on her promises, but... it's not worth it if it causes you, ah,  _discomfort_  on a daily basis."

"I'd appreciate it, Sir." Now all I desired was to melt into a puddle and seep through the emergency floor drains into the sewer. It would have been preferable to having this become public knowledge before I even understood what any of it meant (or didn't mean?).

"You needn't worry," he told me kindly, correctly interpreting my mortification. "I'll treat this matter with the utmost sensitivity."

Since I couldn't verbally respond anymore, I nodded sheepishly. How awful I felt! That was one of only a few times I sincerely wished Logan hadn't confiscated my stash...

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

As you'd probably expect, the novelty of having my ass whooped in the Danger Room wore off pretty darn quick, so I decided – since I was trying to avoid confronting Risty as long as I could – to take a little tour of the Institute grounds. Lots of stuff was still in bad shape, but we'd cleared almost all of the debris away before we started rebuilding, so the lawns were green and healthy, most of the trees stood proud and tall, and the tennis and basketball courts looked awesome. Too bad for us the swimming pool was a complete wreck. It was pretty unanimous that we hold off on fixing that until after the mansion itself was whole again, even though it sucked not to have it to help take our minds off living in a glorified storm cellar.

The last thing I was expecting to find out there was Kitty Pryde sitting on one of the dozen or so benches, bawling into her hands.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Oh!" she gasped, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeves so fast I was worried she might gouge them out. "Rogue, you- what's up?"

"Notta lotta. What's up with you?"

"Oh, the usual," she said brightly as her voice warbled a little, trying to smile. "I'm admiring the weather. Isn't it nice out?"

"Kitty..."

She didn't look up at me – just kept staring out at the woods, slipping her feet in and out of her sandals a few times, biting her lip so hard I thought she was gonna draw blood. Then she whispered, "God... what am I supposed to do now? Without him..."

Lance Alvers. Of course this was about that deadbeat. After yo-yoing for a second about whether or not to stick my nose in where it don't belong, I sat down next to her and put my hand on her back. "His loss. You know that, doncha? He's the one who screwed up, going back to those guys. Siding with them over you."

"It felt so good being on the same team," she burst out angrily, new tears dripping down the tracks the old ones had made on her face. "We could be together, and we didn't have to worry about who was betraying what, or any of that junk. Then Mystique decides to pull them back to the Moron-hood House, and they cause all that nastiness at the board meeting... why can't he just grow a brain and think for himself?"

"He ain't the brightest crayon in the box," I sighed.

A tiny bit of indignation shot through her voice. "That's not true, though. He's smarter than he acts, he just... lets himself get talked into stuff. Into acting like a jerk. I really thought he cared about me enough to shape up."

It was hard not to grimace. "Obviously not, if he could let you go for those bozos."

"Rogue..." She swallowed thickly, leaning against me for support. "We were good together, when it was just us. And then all this other crap gets in the way, and... and that stupid blue skank won't stay out of it. This messed-up world refuses to let us date. Would it be so wrong for us to be a couple? Would it  _really?"_

"Yeah," I laughed bitterly. "Kinda get where you're coming from right now."

Her throat made that high-pitched whine thing that happens when you're trying not to cry out loud. "I knew you'd understand, 'cause of Risty. Like, it should be no biggie that he's from the other side of the tracks or whatever. Because he cared about me, and I cared about him. And instead, all this other lameness matters way more than it should, y'know?"

"What did you say?"

She sat up and blinked at me. "Huh? I said... what?"

"About Risty. What did you mean?"

"Oh..." Then, like flipping a switch, she was totally horrified.  _"Omigod,_  did I just do that? Forget I said anything, I so didn't mean-"

"Wait a second." I scooted a few inches away, hands shaking, mouth going dry as a gulch. "Just what in the Sam Hill do you think is going on with me and Risty?"

"Nothing, I swear!"

"What would even make you  _think_  that?" I shouted.

"Rogue, don't be mad!" She whimpered slightly, knowing she had stepped in it but good this time. "I... okay, you're really,  _really_  not gonna like this..."

I shoved myself away from the bench, folding my arms and showing her my profile. "Go on, spill it! I'm all ears."

"It was a few nights ago," she began slowly, hands pulling at her hair in her panicked state. "I... I got up to get a glass of water, and I phased back into my bedroom so I wouldn't wake Jean by opening the door... and then I realized I was in the wrong room. You know those cubbyholes all look the same. I was turning around to go, and..."

_"AND?"_

The hesitation wasn't making me any less furious. Neither was how rosy her cheeks had got. "...and I saw you guys in bed together. You were, uh, pretty close. Like, superglued."

"So what makes you think we're... we're anything?" I demanded, and not too quietly. "Just b-because we were sleeping in the same bunk doesn't m-mean squat!"

"I know, I know," she pleaded with me, trying to calm me down. "But... I dunno, I've never cuddled with any of my friends like that. Not... like  _that_."

"Oh my freaking  _GOD,_ " I bleated, sinking to my knees.

" _Rogue!"_  she gasped, reaching out to me. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay!" It took me a few more seconds to be able to say anything else. "Does anybody else know?"

"Come on, don't say it like I can't keep a secret!"

"Well, you  _can't!"_ I accused. "You couldn't keep Risty's secret before when it was about her powers, so how'm I s'posed to believe-"

"I would  _never!_ Rogue, I don't know, I- you're both girls, and I don't really get it, but I... seeing you guys together, it felt so dirty that I did, and I tried to tell myself that it was just cold in there or something..."

I sensed the "but" coming, so I said it first. "But?"

"But how you're reacting makes it way harder to turn a blind eye, y'know?" She frowned at me, still crying like a baby. "I'm really sorry, Rogue, I didn't mean to... to  _out_  you or anything!"

"Whoa, back up there, sister!" I snapped, almost snarling at the poor dimwit. "I'm not  _in_  anything that I could be outed from! And there's nothing going on –  _nothing!_ Do you hear me?"

"Rogue, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to see it!" Then she took another breath and stopped her face from leaking, but she still looked miserable. "Your secret's safe. I swear it. I swear it, like, on a stack of Bibles. I won't tell anybody."

"There's nothing to tell!" I insisted.

"Okay, whatever you say!"

I stood, wobbled slightly, and started to walk away past the bench. I got right next to it before I tripped over a loose paving stone and fell sideways, clutching at the seat for support. Kitty automatically reached out and phased me through it, and I found myself lying on the bench, curled up in her lap and shaking so bad I might as well be having a seizure.

"Rogue?"

"I don't wanna do this," I whispered into her abdomen. "I ain't got the stomach for it, I'm in over my head! She's my best friend, it's... and how can it be right if we're girls? I don't like girls, I never have, and never even wanted to try – I still don't! So why now? Why is this happening to me now?"

It sounded like her heart was in her throat when she cautiously asked, "So you... so she  _likes-_ likes you?"

"No," I said with a bleak, powerless laugh. "I got turned down. Lame part is, I didn't even realize I was coming on to her 'til after she gave me the brush-off."

_"Holy shit!"_

"Don't do that!" I pleaded, voice cracking as I shook. "Don't look at me like I'm some, some  _whore!_  I didn't know I was doing it, I swear, I got no clue why I did! Just that..." She waited for me to continue, didn't speak, didn't move a muscle. "Kitty... what if she's the only other human being on the whole planet I can touch without killing them? Am I... am I  _stuck_ with Risty being my only option, when she d-doesn't even want me?"

"Oh, Rogue..." she sobbed – and this sob was a whole other kind. The kind where she suddenly  _knew;_ where her understanding overpowered her confusion _._ From where I was lying, I could almost hear the sound of her guts twisting on my behalf. "God, I had no idea you were going through all this... because of your- and you can't- this sucks so _bad!"_

Okay, so Shadowcat's not much for eloquence... but she makes up for it in compassion. For a long while we cried, both of us, and hard. Our collectively broken hearts pretty much bled all over each other. I felt her hand stroking my hair, her other one clutching my arm so tight she probably drew welts, and I knew she  _really_  gave a flying fig. That's more than I can say for most folks. She probably doesn't know how fiercely I needed it, and how deeply I appreciated it after. Sure, most of the other X-Men would have tried to comfort me a little, or said whatever they could think of to cheer me up, and they sincerely would have cared. But only that airheaded girl (whom I used to resent sharing a room with with great gusto) had it in her to just hold me and cry with me, making my pain her own. Maybe she was returning the favor from back when she and Lance took their relationship a step further than she was prepared to go, or maybe not, but that's a minor detail to me. It was an amazing courtesy that I've never forgotten, and probably never will.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XXV


	26. Chapter 26

Time passed. Don't know how much, don't really care. We cleaned ourselves up as best we could, laughed at the absurdity of life, reassured each other that we'd find true love one way or another. Kitty very tactfully informed me that if I did go after Risty that it wouldn't be the end of the world or anything, and that she'd still be my friend if I was a... if I "defected" is how she worded it. Even though I tried to deny that I wanted anything like that, she insisted until I told her I got the message loud and clear. Then we walked back to the hole-in-the-ground where we lived holding hands, just to take a little more comfort in the fact that somebody else got what we were both going through.

But we broke apart the minute we saw another person in the hallways. Guess we were both kind of jumpy about being caught doing that with another girl, since it was kinda the topic of the hour, right?

It wasn't until lunch when I saw Risty again. She was leaving as I was showing up, and we said "hi" and talked about pointless stuff for a minute, and then she skipped away. It was the ugliest, most shallow exchange I'd ever had with Risty, because it felt so...  _fake._  Making nice. Keeping up appearances. All those things suburban housewives do, pretending they don't hate the neighbors but trying to maintain peace by putting on a good show in public. And it tore me up inside.

So I ended up eating with Shadowcat and Spyke and Beast. Evan and Mr. McCoy eventually left, and then Kitty hugged me.

"This isn't a big deal," she whispered, so low that even a mutant with super-hearing would have needed to be hiding under the table to pick it up. "I'm no Dr. Phil, but I'd probably guess she's just wigged the same way you're wigged."

"Now you're gonna notice all this stuff, ain't ya?" I sighed hopelessly.

"Sorta, yeah."

"So I wasn't imagining it, huh? That was a messed-up conversation."

She snickered. "If you could call it that when it only lasts two seconds. No, don't worry so much. Give it some time; you'll get back to normal."

"Kitty, we're mutants. There's no such freaking thing as 'normal' for us."

"Yeah," she admitted wearily. "There sure isn't."

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

I had a healthy dollop of downtime ahead of me.

Rogue was absent from our utilitarian bedroom. Lucky thing, that, because it was there I was waiting on tenterhooks for Charles Xavier to contact me with his decision. Would it be in person, mentally, or via messenger boy? Only time would tell.

Out of desperation for something to do (and to avoid bumping into the source of my current anxiety), I had run to the library following lunch. My dependable Escort still managed to take me to locations beyond the borders of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Miscreants, and therefore I abused this privilege. I hit the books and finished my homework like a good lass, flipped through a few that I had no intention of checking out, then fled the premises and ingested mass amounts of calories at some local burger shack. Oh, it was delish – I can't even recall the name of the place or if it still exists, but they had this milkshake with puréed toasted almonds and- well, it's almost cruel to describe it without offering a sample, so I'll spare you further details.

There I was, sitting on the cot I shared with my bosom companion, stomach full and contented... while the rest of me was a quivering jumble of nerves. There was nothing else to  _do._  Wasn't this bleeding America, where all avenues of entertainment were open to a citizen (or foreigner on a student visa, or resident alien, or whatever I was by now since I was technically deceased)? Yet I was bored. Television never held my attention for more than a few minutes, so that was out. Wasn't much for reading, either, as I proved in the library. I was more for  _doing_  – doing bad things, for one, but anything that sounded like a blast was fair game. Sitting on my hands is the opposite of a blast, which was not kosher to my way of thinking. Unfortunately, that was all I could do.

 _'Sod this'_ , I thought to myself.  _'Time to go raise a ruckus. Somewhere there's got to be an outhouse to tip over... or at the very least, an open arcade.'_

Wouldn't you know it? The moment I stood, the door banged open and there was Rogue, rubbing her face with her free hand and generally looking like she wanted to expire.

"Hey," I began bravely.

"Oh," she said, startled, a bit afraid. That's how it was now. "Uhh... hi, Risty."

"We'll, I'm just on my way out," I told her cheerily, making for the door – the sweet, blessed door that promised safe haven from this palpable tension... "Need anything while I'm in town?"

"Risty, wait."

 _Shite._  "Hmm?"

"Can we talk about it now? I think I'm ready as I'll ever be."

I flashed her a wide smile. "Perhaps when I get back."

"No, now."

My palms and temples automatically commenced sweating at great speed. "You're sure it can't hold off for an hour or so?"

"Pretty sure."

"Very well," I sighed, leaning back against the cold wall. "Fire away."

The fingers on her left hand were pinching the second knuckle on her right middle finger, as if it ached. Probably just a nervous twitch. "Um, okay. So... okay."

"Okay."

"Risty-"

"You're going to have to do this faster," I blurted. "Or not at all."

"You know I love you."

My blood had probably turned to steam inside my veins. "That right?"

"Come on, you know that," she said, eyes widening, imploring me to understand her. "Maybe we don't usually make such a big deal out of it, but we're tight."

"We are," I conceded, looking away, staring into the corner, mind blank.

Swallowing so loudly I could hear it, she took a single step forward. "So last night... last night was mondo bizarro, but compared to all the other stress we've been through, just in the past few weeks... who cares?"

 _"We_ do."

"Alright," she sighed. "You're right, I can't pretend it's nothing. But then again, I'd rather be trying to figure this out than be out fighting Sentinels while you try disarming a self-destruct sequence."

That made me smile, it really did. "Point to you, luv; this is a fair sight better than our lives being in mortal peril. And yet..." I expected her to say something, but she simply waited. "And yet, that doesn't make it  _easy._  I know I make light of my capricious youth, but even I am straying into new territory, Rogue. My ex-boyfriends are exes because I... because I've never been one to let anyone get close. Not this close, and not for this long."

"Really?" she asked, tone a tincture of pride and terror.

"If you were one of my long string of dating disasters, I'd have shoved you away ages ago." Then I let out a tiny chuckle. "Listen. Listen to that: I'm talking about you as if we're already going out. Doesn't that churn your stomach? It's  _barmy,_ it is!"

"Risty, I'm not too interested in defining our relationship," she told me, chest heaving. "All I need, bare minimum, is to make sure we still got one!"

Now I looked up at her. "Of course we do. Don't be daft; it's going to take more than a near-miss to shake us."

"Good, then," she said, forcing herself to take deep breaths, fighting back the flare-up of emotions that had almost sent her into hysterics. "I... okay. That was top priority. Now for the other stuff."

"No 'other stuff'," I warned. "I've had my limit."

"I'm sorry about last night. That was... I'm really not sure what I was doing, but I didn't mean anything by it. It just happened."

"Said the spider to the fly," I muttered.

"Hey, no fair." Her voice grew stony, and I could tell it was mostly anger directed at herself instead of at me. "I swear, it was just a random action, I didn't plan it. And when you stopped me, I stopped, didn't I? I listened to you."

"And what would we be talking about right now if I hadn't?" Her cheeks swelled with colour, and I fought down a similar reaction. "Crap."

"Had to make my mind go there, didn't you?"

"We were doing so well!"

"AAH!" she cried out in frustration, laughing slightly as she ran her hands through her white-and-auburn hair. "Why does this gotta be such a chore? There's a thousand hung-over sorority girls all over the country right now having the same conversation."

"Quite likely," I laughed.

"C'mere." And then we hugged. It was warm, tender... and so was she. The first few seconds were perfectly innocent, and I was happy. But then, I think in the same instant, we felt something shift. Twenty fingertips stabbed desperately into two backs. Breath came faster. And this time, it was me who overstepped. My lips that pressed into her neck, me tasting the salt on her skin...

"Risty..."

 _"Enough!"_  I barked as I shoved her away. "N-no more, I can't stand this!"

Her gloved hand was pushing into her mouth, eyes round as dinner plates as she realized what had just transpired. "Fine, so... so that didn't turn out so great. Does that mean we gotta give up?"

"In a word – absolutely!"

 _"No!"_  she shouted. "Don't be a chicken, we can get past this!"

"Obviously not, if all it takes is one friendly embrace for me to start in on- for-  _urgh_ , I can't even articulate it without wanting to hide under the bed!"

Her fist lashed out and pounded into the wall. "So what? I don't care if we do or we don't, as long as we can talk it out! As long as we can be together!"

My eyebrows knitted. "What do you mean by 'be together', precisely?"

"Not what  _you_  mean," she snapped impatiently, teeth grinding. "All  _I_ mean is friendship. Seriously, Risty; that's all. As long as I got that part, I'm sittin' pretty, no matter which way the rest of this shit goes."

That moved me. It honestly did – even if I couldn't admit it then, if there were other things I had to say that prevented me from enjoying it with the sheer abandon I longed to. "Are you out of your gourd?"

"What?"

"You don't  _care_  if we start doing unspeakable things?" I growled. "That must be nice. You really don't mind that we're both women, that... I'll never be... and  _that,_ Almighty, we certainly couldn't..."

"Dammit, Risty!" she burst out, furious. "Are you actually this slow?"

 _"Excuse_  me?"

"You really haven't got there yet in your limey brain?" She let out a hollow laugh, this demented, resigned look creeping into her face. "You're all I got. There's nobody else – literally, nobody on the planet. So why should I make a big deal outta you not being a boy?"

Instantly I knew what she meant. "Right..."

"When a lady's list of possible suitors is a list of one, she can't afford to be picky."

"Red card," I whispered, ice creeping into my marrow. She only spared an instant to be confused at my sports reference before shrugging it off. "J-just because you can touch me, doesn't mean you should  _touch_  me. Please, I can't be that, it's too much responsibility for any one person!"

"I don't want you to be, either," she told me with such a baldness that I felt the shock ripple down into my core. "But... can I tell you that I wouldn't mind?"

 _"Christ,"_  I breathed, striving not to faint dead away.

"If it were any of the other X-Men, I might feel worse. But it's  _you_. I know you the best, we're like two peas in a pod." A tiny smile touched her lips. "Some smart girl once told me that, and I believed her."

My throat was arid as the Mojave. "And I meant it. But this, this is something else again! How can you be so certain?"

"I'm not. Everything's bass-ackwards and upside-down. But... I  _am_  certain I won't throw away a whole friendship that's this important to me over something as stupid as an almost-kiss."

Dash it all, she just had to use the K-word. I wouldn't have reacted so poorly if not for that. "No, Rogue. I'm sorry, I c-can't. Not with you."

Her eyes turned to the floor. "God, sorry I'm so gross, then."

The time had come at last to lay my cards on the table. "Don't you see, yet? There's another reason it's wrong – and it has nothing to do with your gender or our previous relationship status."

"I could give two shits that you used to be Mystique," she insisted immediately, guessing where I was going with this. Partially.

"Really? You can't see why that would make this more distressing for me?"

And all at once, fear, surprise, revulsion, they were all vying for the upper hand on the battlefield of her face. "Oh no..."

"How am I supposed to survive a liaison with you when... when I can remember raising you from a babe?" My voice was shaking so badly, I had to wonder if she could even understand me anymore. "I can remember doing it with my own two hands. Even if it's a false memory, it's  _right there,_  berating me for entertaining the notion of you as anything other than friend. Or daughter."

"Risty, stop it!"

"I hate it, too!" I screamed, suddenly unhinged, impatient to get it all out, to finish what I started so as to have done with it. "I hate looking at you and thinking ridiculous things like, 'My, my, how she's grown!' Do you know what that  _does_  to someone who's still a teenager, looking at a girl the same age as her? I feel...  _old!_  And I'm not, but I can't make it go away, and I can't stop remembering how you looked when you were a wee thing, and how I used to rock you in my arms when you couldn't sleep for nightmares, and the way you'd always reach for-"

" _Shut up!"_  she bellowed, hands clutching the sides of her head. "I can't hear this from you, I can't! It's too abnormal, and... and  _sick!"_

"Do you have some sort of Oedipal complex?" I recriminated coldly. "Do you...  _love_  your mummy?"

_"THAT'S ENOUGH!"_

We were both glaring daggers at each other, chests heaving, eyes streaming. It was the very first time I felt any sort of resentment or dislike of Rogue. And the instant it was born, I eradicated it; that was incorrect. This wasn't her fault. Disliking my best friend might have resolved the issue expediently, but it would also leave me abhorring everything I've ever been for the rest of my life. There had to be another way.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she said in a deadly quiet voice. "You will be here when I get back. This ain't over."

"What makes you so s-"

_"You will be here when I get back."_

I gulped and nodded. "Certainly."

The way she was clutching her stomach as she turned tail and ran told me she probably didn't have to powder her nose. I felt ready for a spot of regurgitation myself, but I managed to hold my milkshake down.

Half an hour slipped by as I tossed and turned on the cot, sometimes standing and pacing to purge a modicum of irritation. It was  _hellacious._  I wanted nothing more than to run screaming into the forest, tearing off my clothes and howling like a creature of habit, unbeholden to anyone or anything. What was I going to do now, anyway? How did I reach this abysmal point in my life?

When she didn't come back, I went looking for her in the bathroom. And there I found her, with Jean and Kitty on either side as she had her face shoved halfway inside the commode.

"Rogue?"

Wide-eyed, Jean was shaking her head at me, as if trying to warn me away. Kitty told me in a carrying whisper, "Now's not the greatest time."

Rogue let out a ghastly noise that I'll try  _not_  to describe, then a whimper of pure sadness. I bolted.

Straight out and into the War Room is where I bolted. Professor X, Wolverine, Beast and Storm were seated around the table; a holographic depiction of the mansion as it once was floated in the air beside another, redesigned model.

"Miss Wilde!" Charles said in a reproachful voice. "One might knock before-"

" _Please,_  Professor. I'm at the end of my tether."

Instantly, his face became wooden; I was broadcasting on all frequencies. "Logan, Ororo, Hank..."

All three of them stood and excused themselves. Logan tousled my hair as he passed; I was touched by the random-but-fatherly gesture from the normally stand-offish brute. Then there were only two in the room.

"I'm not sure you intended to open your mind so fully to my own," he said in a hushed voice, "but if what I'm sensing is true, then you have my deepest condolences."

Nodding, I took the facial tissue he was offering me and cleared my sinuses. "Thank you. I... I'd rather you didn't watch the uncensored film, but figured it would save time."

"You needn't worry about me running off at the mouth about your personal problems. I'm rather a staunch confidant." With the patience of Job, he waited for me to calm down a touch before he asked, "Now, then. What can I do to help?"

"Professor, Sir... I have a proposition."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XXVI


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jessex has her computer back! Thank the gods, as I have other fictions to write and this one to finish. This chappie was a lot of fun to write; things like this stroke my pleasure center like you wouldn't believe. Er... was that an overshare? :/

••••••••••••••••••MG••••••••••••••••••

Oh, writing about that day is going to be so difficult... but I don't mind. I understand why Rogue wants me to handle this part. Really, I'm honored she trusts me to do it justice.

"She looks pretty bad, Jean."

I nodded as the bathroom door swung shut behind us. Kitty wasn't wrong. "Definitely. I really don't know what to do here."

"It's a toughie." So sweet; I was picking up a wave of empathy from Kitty that warmed me, even as I continued to dwell on the things I now knew about Rogue. "This whole deal is getting way freakier."

"Yeah," I said, squirming. "It's hard being a telepath in a room when emotions are running high. I ended up with a lot more info than I wanted."

"Jean!" Kitty gasped, eyes darting back to the door. Rogue was still in the shower; without reaching outward, I could feel how soothing she found the hot water. "Don't go reading her brain-diary, that's-"

"I told you, I didn't have to. Rogue was so ill from what she found out, and Risty felt... felt  _terrible._  Like, almost suicidal, but not quite there yet. If I  _hadn't_  picked up on something that strong, I'd be worried I was losing my powers."

Kitty frowned at me, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "What did she find out? Obviously this is a deeper level of crazy."

Slowly, I shook my head. "I can't. Honestly, I probably might as well tell you since you were there for Rogue's reaction to it, but I don't think I have the right."

"No, it's okay," she assured me quickly, trying to force down her curiosity. "I won't tell you what I learned, either – but I think we can agree that those two need to sit down and figure everything out."

When we glanced at each other, I could see the discomfort in her face clearly enough that I didn't have to sense it with my mind. My own was probably a mirror image.

"It... makes sense, though, right?" Kitty whispered, voice trembling as she rubbed her upper arms; it was always cold in those underground hallways. "Risty's the only person that won't get absorbed when she touches Rogue. If anybody-"

"But that's just it; neither of them really wants this. I can tell you that much from what I sensed; maybe the idea is...  _interesting,_  I guess you'd say, but they're really scared of how it might turn out. At the same time, Rogue can't deny that this one chance might be it for her."

"That's the worst thing I've ever heard. I... I wish we could  _do_  something, help Rogue turn her powers off, or cure her, or... I dunno."

"Yeah."

Kitty's face began to glow even brighter. "It's like... sometimes, I'm worried... that when I finally am with a guy - y'know, all the way – th-that... that I'll activate my ghosting by accident, and he'll fall right through me, or I'll fall through the bed. And then he'll never want to try it with me again."

I couldn't help but smile. "Hey, come on. You know most guys who understood your mutant ability to begin with would be more than willing to start over if that happened. You're too cute to give up on so easy."

"Maybe," she grunted, leaning against the wall. "But it still bums me out. So based on that, when I try to imagine how much worse this is for Rogue..."

My own eyes misted over when I saw fresh tears spring up from nowhere. Such a good, decent heart. "Oh, Kitty."

We both stood in silence by the door for a few more minutes as Kitty dried herself up. Then we got to talking about training and Scott and Lance and things like that, anything to distract us from what we probably shouldn't be discussing. Eventually, Rogue joined us, back in her dirty clothes but clean beneath them.

"Alright, guys, guard duty's over."

"How are you feeling?" Kitty asked.

"Splendiferous," she said flatly, then shot me a withering glance. "Bet 'Marvel Girl' here filled you in on the deets."

"She didn't," Kitty said soberly. "Nothing I didn't already know."

"But you two did talk about me."

Gulping, I stepped forward. "Rogue... Risty really is broken up about all this. As staggering as the waves of emotion that came off her were, she might as well have shouted everything right in my ear. I... I'm worried about her."

"Worry about  _me,_ " Rogue protested, lip curling as her voice rose. "I'm drowning in this crap, and- and you two know, and how long will it be before everybody knows?"

"A long time," Kitty said firmly.

"This is the last thing I need to get out! Everything I... this isn't how I am, but everybody's gonna think that when they hear! And I won't ever be able to live it down!"

"Rogue, please don't think about it with so much anger," I pleaded with her, fingers at my temples. "I don't mean to pry, b-but-"

"Then stay away from me!" she snapped.

"Distance won't help – not unless you emigrate. You're filling in all the blanks, even while I'm actually  _straining_  to block you out. God, I'm trying so hard..."

Rogue's glare said a mouthful, so there wasn't a whole lot left for her actual mouth to say. "Guess there's no such thing as a secret with you around." And then she stomped off, heading toward the kitchen.

"It's okay," Kitty said softly. "You didn't earn that."

"Yes, I did. I should have better control of my powers by now. Instead, my friends have to suffer because I'm such a failure." My grief-soaked voice was pitiful. I always hated how I sounded when crying; Rogue and Kitty could manage to sound indignant or furious or self-assured even through their tears, but me? Just weak, fragile, scared. A pushover.

"Come on, why don't we-"

"Hold on..." Every hair on the back of my neck stood on end. "Something's wrong. In the War Room - something's going terribly wrong!"

And then I was off down the hallway before Kitty could verbalise another word. In less than a minute, I was almost breaking down the door to the War Room, rushing inside – and staring openly in shock.

Risty's powers were at their fullest; skin gray, eyes yellowing and lifeless, breath like a death rattle. Steam poured upward from her shoes, hands bared in claws. And she was facing down the Professor.

"What's-"

"None shall oppose me!" she was intoning.

"Jean!" Charles said, voice authoritative. "Fall back, now! That's an order!"

"Sorry, Sir!" I barked, taking up a ready stance as I closed the door behind me. "I won't leave you alone with a threat in the room!"

"Quite right; I  _am_  a threat," Lazarus intoned, turning on me. "One Mystique is enough to rule the world.  _Two_  of them... well, that should bring us the Milky Way."

Only now did I feel dizzy, limbs like lead.  _Mystique_. Before, I had just launched myself into the battle-ready attitude of the X-Men, waiting to see what the problem was and how best to vanquish it. Now... now I was beside myself.

"Agh!" Professor X shouted. When I looked over, I saw he hadn't been attacked – physically. No, this war was being waged on a different plane.

"I'm going in!"

" _No,_  Jean!" he shouted. "This is not a proving ground – you are not ready!"

"I am ready. And like it or not, you need my help, so here I come!"

That was all the warning I gave, and before I threw my mind entirely into the purple head of Risty Wilde, I heard high, bone-chilling laughter spill out from between her cracking lips.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

It was like being inside a honeycomb. A mirrored honeycomb that shot outward in every direction, facets and angles and deceptive turns that led nowhere. Now I could see what the Professor meant; I'd never,  _ever_  encountered a mind like this before.

"Professor?"

"No one will help you find him."

That was Mystique's voice. Actually  _hers,_  not Risty talking like her. I caught sight of a blue face in a few of the reflections, and turned to find nothing; no doors, no people, just shining walls that depicted other walls, or my own astral self.

That was the first time I got a good look at what my inner Jean looked like. She was taller, more elegant, and most of the flaws I saw in my body (that Scott constantly assured me weren't real) had been softened or erased. A toga was draped over my otherwise-bare form. It was as if I were some Greco-Roman goddess, and the Jean that walked the mortal realm was merely a half-decent recreation. Even while I admired this new version of me, I regretted that it wouldn't come with me when I went home.

But new or old, I was not without power. And in this world, I was even mightier than in the one I'd just vacated. A goddess.

Shards of glass flew everywhere as I smashed and streamlined the hexagonal walls into wide hallways and branching rooms, reordered the landscape into something more functional. I heard Mystique screaming, and Risty laughing. Again and again I attacked, fingers splayed before me to sculpt, to create. Another hallway, and another – and at the end of the that one stood Charles – he  _stood,_  on two legs, majestic and straight as an arrow. I tried not to laugh; he was dressed like Merlin, complete with wand and pointed blue wizard hat. He'd been reading too much T. H. White again.

"Well done," he panted breathlessly as I ran up to him, which took a mere heartbeat, "but there's a lot more to go."

"What do you mean?"

"Risty's mind has been...  _crystallized_. To be honest, it's down to her strength of character that she hasn't fallen into the depths of madness in such a disorganized net of neural pathways. She's a remarkable girl. But now that I've breached it, that I've started trying to reorder the layout..."

"Mystique's old personality was being held captive here," I guessed, feeling a thrill of dread. "And now it's loose."

"Precisely. Like setting a wild bear free in downtown. If we can't figure this out sooner rather than later-"

_"No!"_

"Yes," he affirmed with a nod. "You've grasped the danger. We have little time."

Waving his wand before him, he slowly turned my wooden doors into steel-reinforced vaults. At millisecond-long intervals, they flapped open, and I would glimpse either one of Risty's memories or one of Mystique's inside, and instinctively I knew which was which. But then they shut, and occasionally the doors would switch places, flying across the hallway or sliding under the floor before they rose again in another spot.

"Wha... hey, are you arranging them by who they belong to?"

"That is my intent," he said, obviously under a great deal of strain. "When Risty was...  _discarded_ , they were jumbled up to begin with; I'm sure she spent her first few hours trying to decide which person she was. But since then, the mess has been settling into a coagulated hodgepodge of consciousness. It's fortunate we're doing this now, otherwise..."

"We might have lost her."

"Not entirely," he corrected. "But a few years down the road, we might have lost a lot of her, and gained more of Raven Darkholme. It's difficult to say what portions of the two personalities would have survived."

My scalp prickled as I began helping him sort through the countless memories. "That'd be so sad..."

"Indeed."

I almost peed myself when I heard a booming tone. "Naughty, naughty, Charles..."

Then we were suddenly being bombarded by blue, spectral entities. They moved like wraiths, undulating and curling around each other, then striking out at us. We protected ourselves well enough with mental shields, but it desperately slowed our progress, and I knew we'd eventually tire out if we had to defend against those attacks while trying to do the work.

"Let us help you!" I cried out into the echoing void as we pounded down a hallway. Summoning a seven-foot quarterstaff made of pure light, I knocked the wraiths backward as the Professor tore down a twisting spire of melting hexagons and rebuilt it into a two-story brick edifice, simple and tasteful.

"We do not want help!" Another wraith wrapped itself around me from below, and I reshaped part of my shield into a thin wedge, trying to pry it off my legs. "We are content to stay, to flourish – to infest!"

 _"Back,_  you icky thing!"

Eventually, Professor X finished with another section, then turned and scorched the tendrils with a ray-like blast from his wand. "Quickly, Jean, we must work with the speed of the devil himself!"

"Roger!"

It didn't take me long to see what he meant. At least three times, a section we had already reshaped was undone; once I lost a memory entirely, pulverized by Mystique's destruction. When I glimpsed a tiny brown-haired Risty holding a trophy, grinning from ear to ear and being congratulated on her teamwork in junior-league football (that's what the Britons call soccer, right?) a second before it was annihilated, I swore to myself I'd work harder to ensure it didn't happen again.

Finally, we were rolling back the tide. Almost all of the empire of her mind had been completely refurbished, gleamed with strength. That was probably one of the most satisfying things I've ever accomplished. But the damaged sector that remained was black as night, made of more resilient material, so resilient that both of us had to fight alongside one another to force any changes to stick. It was slow going.

"We're barely making a dent!" I howled over the wind, jabbing my staff into another wraith. "Can we really fix this?"

"There are lingering parts of Miss Wilde hidden deep down in there! We must persevere, for we don't know how important they are; if we simply eradicate the whole section, she might lose the ability to speak, or breathe, or who knows what else!"

"Right! Then let's do this!"

_"NOT SO FAST!"_

A fifty-foot Mystique, decked out in giant jagged blades that reminded me of Spyke on a bad day, stomped down the uneven pavement toward us, eyes full of a whitish glow.

"Dammit," I hissed.

"Language, Jean," the Professor said with a slight smile. I'm glad  _he_  could joke at a time like that; I was scared out of my wits.

"You... shall... NOT-"

_"Oh, give it a rest!"_

That voice was a welcome change. We turned, but my heart caught in my throat when we beheld the equally-huge Risty; she looked more like Lazarus, and like one that had been rotting and festering in a grave for way,  _way_  too long. My astral form flickered; I had come very close to losing my grip and finding myself back in my own skull.

"Hold it together," Professor X told me in an undertone. "Watch, and be ready to step in."

"I've had enough of your presence!" Mystique growled, and I noticed she suddenly sounded like a radio that was just a decimal point away from a station's signal; there was slight static, and the words went in and out of clarity. "Away with you!"

"Tough rocks, you tramp!" Risty shouted. Her voice rang with a power that I'd never heard anyone use, save perhaps Magneto. "This is  _my_  mind, and  _I'll_  decide who's welcome and who isn't! And you are not on the guest list!"

They attacked in the same moment, two towering versions of real-life people colliding, and the ground rocked and buckled under their feet. The Professor and I scrambled out of the way, hiding behind an outcropping of hexagons. As we watched, I noticed him quietly begin to reshape the parts we were closest to, smoothing out the wrinkles, securing memories where they ought to go.

"NO!" Mystique screamed, a giant hand reaching back for us. "Leave that alone, you accursed-"

"Eyes on the prize, luv!" An elbow to the jaw sent Mystique sprawling into a pile of hexagonal crates of recollections, and I surged forward and whipped them out from under her before they could get squashed. One of Mystique's didn't quite make it, but I considered that an acceptable loss.

"Are you okay?" I asked Risty.

"Fine, girly-girl!" she said with an evil cackle. "There's room to move in here, now! You keep laying the groundwork while I keep Smurfette occupied!"

And so it went, the Professor and I healing the corrupted areas while the insubstantial giants fought for supremacy, sometimes fracturing what we'd just finished mending. Between us two telepaths, we were able to slowly convert all of Mystique's ugly memories into a Lockdown vault that would contain them, carefully extracting those few pieces of Risty that had been scattered throughout. My pulse pounded when I found one of Mystique being in possession of Risty's body, though it was focused on Rogue: the two (three?) of them stayed up late into the night and talked about everything under the sun. It was so golden and beautiful that both Mystique and Risty were distracted from their epic battle.

"Give me that!" Mystique gasped, thorny blue hand reaching for me, fingernails elongating even as I cowered.

"You've got no claim of ownership!" Lazarus countered, swatting the hand away. "You have your own record of that night in your own body! Now let go of mine! Let  _go!"_

And as I placed it in what I had dubbed The Hall of Shared Memories, ones that Mystique had been present for but should by rights belong to Risty, I saw our compatriot's decaying flesh begin to piece itself back together, her outline stronger. Our headway had been great, and we were beginning to see the payoff.

" _No,"_  Mystique wailed as her form became more translucent. "No, you cannot win, I will not stand for this!"

"Then sit down and  _SHUT UP!"_

Twin scythes came out of her arms, and with a scissor-swipe...

Ugh. I don't want to chronicle this part, but I guess I have to: she decapitated the ghost-Mystique. And I mean the head flew off and landed right in front of us, spurting blood everywhere, raining down on our heads. A second time, I came close to winking out, but Professor Merlin grabbed my elbow to steady me.

After teetering for a minute, the headless body fell with a huge crash, and exploded into a pile of hexagonal boxes. More things to sort out...

"She's dead," Risty laughed gleefully. "Ding-dong, the wicked old  _bitch_  is dead!"

The corners of Xavier's eyes crinkled. "Amusing. Shall we?"

Risty slowly became the olive-skinned girl we knew and loved, and also shrank down to normal size. Her clothes, however, were her X-Men costume – there, in a world where we could be whatever we wanted. I wondered about that for a long, long time afterward... but eventually I figured out why. Then I sought her out and gave her the most crushing hug I could.

"Let's do," Risty said pleasantly as a royal scepter appeared in her hand. "Not much left for me to fret over, though; you lot sorted me with the greatest of ease."

"Where do you want...  _this?_ " I asked, kicking one of the boxes with my toe.

"Lock 'em up, as we discussed."

"Discussed?"

The Professor laughed. "In all the excitement, I'd nearly forgotten that was our original goal: moving the memories to a vault that can be accessed  _voluntarily_ instead of trying to destroy or seal them permanently. Yes; into Lockdown they go."

My nose crinkled as we used our various magical implements to send the fragments of Mystique into Lockdown. "They seem, uh, flatter. Is that weird?"

"Her id has been snuffed," Risty told me. "Now these are memories just like the rest, not something that has its own will. I suppose her consciousness was so exactly duplicated within me that once the Professor tossed a stone at the beehive..."

"I do apologize," he sighed. "If I had known a copy of Mystique's personality was intact here, I wouldn't have begun this without assistance. Therefore, I suppose it's lucky that Jean happened along."

My jaw went slack. "Happened along,  _nothing!_  I felt this shoot-out all the way in the bathroom! I'm sure there are telepaths up and down North America trying to figure out what that was!"

The Professor frowned at me. "Don't exaggerate, Jean. Still... I confess myself quite pleased with your skill today. In short order, you took stock of the situation, adapted to the environment and mastered it. Without your help, my efforts to separate Risty from Mystique could have been for nothing. You are a most worthy apprentice."

As I blushed, Risty grinned.  _"Sorcerer's_  apprentice, eh?"

"Lampooning my astral self will not garner you a softer hand in the Danger Room," he warned her jovially.

"Yeah, yeah," she said with a wave of her scepter. "So how about my good friends Athena and Dumbledore shake a leg and help me spruce up my mental closet?"

As we began the grueling work of fashioning a sturdier framework for the rest of Risty's thoughts, I saw the Professor's forehead wrinkle at the word "Dumbledore". He always was a little behind the times when it came to popular culture.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XXVII


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chappie introduces the beginning of the end. You'll probably feel it building to a climax with every step from here on in. Whee! I'm so glad to have my computer back... that I'm already working on my next fiction. It will see the light of day soon, worry not, but I'm going to try to ensure it's up to snuff before posting. Anyhow...

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

There. Back in my own skin.

The moment we stepped out of my head – or, in my case, allowed Professor X to settle my mind into the driver's seat of my body once more – we heard a startled yip from the corner. Turning as one, we advanced on it only to find-

"Kitty!" Jean yelped.

 _"AIEE!"_ she screamed, sliding backward and halfway through the wall. "I m-mean... is everyone okay now? Logan's on his way up, he was the first person I thought to-"

"We're fine, Shadowcat," Charles assured her kindly. "Just... on a bit of an adventure, that's all. No cause for alarm."

" _No cause for-_  you guys!" she whined, stamping her foot. "I ran in here after Jean to see what the deal was, and you're all standing around like scarecrows! What was I supposed to do, throw ping-pong balls at you until you woke up?"

"Glad you binned that notion," I muttered.

"Miss Wilde was burdened by a small problem," the Prof went on. "I attempted to handle it without reinforcements, which was my mistake, and Jean came to our aid. And I'll trust you not to press the matter."

Kitty frowned grumpily and folded her arms over her chest. "Oooh, alright, but you'd better not be lying!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "It's the truth – or as much of it as you'll be privy to, dear Katherine. Now, if you'll allow us a few moments?"

Glaring into each of our faces in turn, Kitty turned on her heel and stomped through the wall, leaving us to regroup.

I took a great gulp of oxygen. It's amazing how much cleaner the inside of my cranium felt, as if layers of grime and mildew had built up and we'd just scoured them with industrial-strength degreaser. The air was sweeter, colours more vibrant. I was at peace with having been Mystique's puppet now that it was literally  _all_ in the past. No more modus vivendi for me; I was queen of Ristytopia.

"Jean, do you know what a life-debt is?"

The tallish redhead blinked. "Uhh... I guess. Why?"

"Because you're now the proud owner of one." And I buried my face in her shoulder for a moment, ignoring the surprised outcry, welcoming her arms around me the next second. Jean Grey had most assuredly landed herself in my Top Eight.

"Shh," she soothed into my hair. "Anytime."

"And you!" I cried out, baring down on Xavier so quickly his eyebrows shot up in alarm. When I started wringing his hand, cheeks aching from the width of my smile, I breathed, "Cheers, you beautiful, beautiful man, you!"

"Well, I suppose I'm not altogether hideous," he chuckled. "But you're quite welcome. For the good of the team, and a friend's serenity."

Standing back a bit, I sighed deeply, too happy to let any one thing bring me down on this, my Independence Day. Not even the dark topic I knew must be addressed before I sallied forth from that circle of contentment. "Well, I'm sure the both of you have become fully aware of Mystique's true attachment to our favourite Rogue."

"I'm afraid so," said Jean. "I caught a glimpse from both you guys earlier, but I had to move and store so many memories of Mystique raising her that... it's kind of hard to forget any of them now."

"Quite unprecedented," Charles agreed, guiding his wheelchair over to his usual place at the table. "If I thought we might be able to locate this Destiny, I'd be inclined to pay her a visit. But I'm sure if I marched into Cerebro right now – even if it  _were_  operational – I'd come up empty-handed. That shapeshifter has the most creative ways of thwarting me."

"Righty-o." Stretching my oddly-sore limbs, I yawned and said, "Goodness me, but eradicating hidden personas from one's gray matter leaves a gal quite knackered!"

"Go sleep it off," Jean told me with a wink. "I'd say you deserve it after-"

The door banged open and a snarling Logan was in our midst, claws out, hackles raised. "Alright, bub, who needs dicin'?"

Laughing at a berserker-crazed Wolverine is usually a fairly poor idea... but when he heard all three of us start in (even the Professor), at the very least he began to catch on that there was no imminent danger. Which only made him angrier, I think.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

I was sitting on the front steps of what was left of the mansion when Risty found me. At that point, I'd rather anybody else walk up and say "hello", but there was nowhere to run.

"What's up?" I replied flatly.

"My apologies, Rogue. I've been a pill, and you've borne the brunt of it. Can you ever forgive me?"

When I finally looked up at her, the healthy glow in her face surprised me. "What are  _you_  so happy about?"

"I'm free." She giggled and clapped her hands, teeth flashing as she smiled the biggest smile I'd seen on her mug in a long while. "Mystique has left the building."

That got my attention. "Uhh... I don't get it, what do you mean?"

"I didn't mention it before because I was afraid we might fail, but... I asked the Professor for some assistance with organizing my thought patterns. And it worked!"

"Really?" I suppressed a nervous gulp, standing and brushing off my knees and seat. "You mean... her memories are gone, just like that?"

Risty shook her head, still grinning. "Nothing that clear-cut, alas. But they're... how do I explain? Instead of feeling like I've lived her life, they're more like scenes from something I watched on the telly. Rogue, I'm back in control. 'Cured' may be overstating it, but I'd certainly prefer it this way to how it was before."

Now I couldn't help but smile, even if I didn't completely get what she was talking about. "Obviously it's got you giddier than a pig in slop."

"Let me put it another way."

When her palms trailed up my arms to my shoulders, I felt my pulse quicken a few notches, my legs turn into jelly. Whatever she was going to do, I was afraid, I was so afraid I was going to hate what came next. But then she hugged me, warm and constant with no fear, none of that hesitation and weirdness that she'd been so full of the last time. I leaned into it, yearning to get as close as possible, and she let me. She didn't stop me when my hands slid up her back and pressed against her shoulderblades. She didn't flinch when I moaned into her ear. She didn't push me away when I rubbed my cheek along the side of her neck. When  _was_ she going to call a time out?

"Risty, doesn't this scare you anymore? It still scares me. It scares the living shit outta me."

"It's as you said," she whispered. "As long as I can have you in my life, the rest is window dressing."

The edges of my vision sparked and my stomach started floating around in outer space as I pulled back to stare into the red sunset reflected in eyes that met mine steadily. "Then prove it."

A tiny laugh sounded deep in her throat. "As you wish."

Her nose was brushing past mine...

_"RISTY!"_

Both of us turned, nearly falling over in our haste to break apart. Who the hell thought they had the brass balls to kill the mood? An asshole who was gonna find himself missing a few parts soon if I had anything to say about it.

Some old guy was headed in our direction. He wasn't that much taller than us, and his white mustache looked strange next to his sandy brown hair. The three-piece suit was like something the Professor might wear if all his other suits were at the cleaners. In one hand he had a briefcase, and in the other was the handle of expensive luggage on wheels. His half-moon spectacles were perched on the end of his nose, and I had a feeling they spent most of their life there.

"What is the meaning of this?" he burst out, waving a piece of paper he had in the briefcase hand. "You were supposed to be with your host family! What are you doing at this breeding ground for freaks and instigators?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Risty's body language completely transform, and it wasn't in a good way. She squared her shoulders and called out, "Hello, Father. Had a pleasant voyage?"

 _"Father,"_ I breathed. How fun was this gonna be?

"I've had the taxi driver all up and down the entire bloody city looking for this accursed hovel," he grunted as he stomped over to us. "It's bad enough I wasn't informed of your change in living arrangements, but now I arrive on your doorstep to find that... that it has no door! Where on earth are you  _really_  staying?"

"How's Mum?" Risty said brightly. "Probably halfway through her fifth vodka-tonic by now; it's a late enough hour in the motherland."

"None of your mouth, young lady," the man panted as he came to a stop in front of us. "And who's this? Seems to be of the same class of lowlife scoundrels you cavorted with before. You couldn't have been bothered to  _try_  to better yourself?"

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell when you're being trashed to your face. The guy was a total dick.

"Dad," she said through her teeth, "this is-"

"Anna Marie, Sir," I told him meekly, extending my hand. After a moment of glaring at it like it might bite, he put down his briefcase and we shook. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Listen to that awful Yankee accent," he muttered as he picked up the briefcase again. At the same time, I noticed Risty shooting me a questioning look and I figured it was because I'd used my real name. I shook my head and shrugged. What else was I supposed to do? He already hated the look of me, so I figured telling him I had a name like Rogue would only alienate the guy even more. Not a great first impression. "At least she seems to have a tentative grasp on manners, I'll give her that. Now, where's this Xavier chap? I'd say he and I are about to have words."

"Right this way," she sighed, defeated.

Dr. Wilde griped and complained the whole way down the hidden elevator to our once-secret base of operations that now doubled as our home. In the hallway, he blustered and jumped like a grasshopper every time one of the students barreled past, saying stuff about "no discipline" and "impropriety". I'm glad nobody stopped to talk to us before we got to the War Room; Risty knocked, a voice told us to come in, and we did.

"Ah, a guest," Professor X said pleasantly. Miss Munroe was there, too, sitting in another chair and going over what looked to me like a budget. "Whom do I have the pleasure?"

"Dr. Regis C. Wilde," he announced shortly, making no move to approach. "And you're Charles Xavier, so I've heard on the news. You Westerners don't even stand to greet your guests, eh? Typical."

Storm couldn't help but clear her throat, but old Chuck merely smiled; he was used to being mistreated. "Well, the heart is willing, but the flesh is weak, I'm afraid."

"Paraplegic, you git," Risty told her father in an undertone. She wasn't willing to cut him any slack, and I didn't blame her.

"Hrmh," the man grumbled, a smidge uncomfortable with having overlooked something so obvious – and he's supposed to be a doctor! "Fine, then, to the point. I'm here to take back my daughter."

" _What?"_  I burst out.

"Rogue," the Prof warned me, and I heard him continue in my head,  _'If you can't mind your tongue I'll have to ask you to wait outside; this is fast becoming a delicate matter. I'll do my best to dissuade him.'_

"Perhaps you could tell us your reasons?" Ororo asked as he told me that.

"Because this is a colony of Satanic misdeeds," he blustered. "Which is all well and good for your other cultists, but I'll be damned if my youngest is dragged into your world."

Xavier's eyebrow went up. "You seem to have formed a very specific opinion of us already, Dr. Wilde. Our world is the same world as yours."

"I've watched hours of coverage on the news networks. I know what you're up to; these battle arenas underground, the killer robots, strange witchcraft. I'll not have it. You'll not be influencing Risty into becoming more of a terror than she was to begin with!"

"Perish the thought," Xavier said, undaunted. "Our organization extends the hand of friendship to anyone who  _already_  displays natural abilities that others do not. We do not 'convert' people or inundate them in any way. This is merely a safe haven for those who wish to better understand what they're capable of and how to control it."

"Oh, I've seen what you're capable of," he laughed harshly. "Speeding about like you're on drugs, firing lethal weaponry from your own bodies! Disappearing into the ether! And you call things like that  _natural?_  Bah! You're as cracked as your ruddy organization!"

"Dad-"

"Hush, Risty," he snapped, like telling a dog to jump down off the couch. "Professor Xavier, eh? What are you  _Professor_ of, precisely?"

The Professor smiled. How could he stay so merry with that blowhard in the room? "I like to think of myself as a renaissance man; I'm well-versed in a wide range of subjects. But in the interests of a more peaceful planet, I've devoted the bulk of my time to what you'd probably dub 'mutantology'."

"So you sit around in here, studying these, these...  _freaks?_  Is that any way to live your life?" At last, he banged his briefcase down on the table. "Barking, all of you. This is exactly the environment I thought I might find, and I'm quite ready to prise her out of it forthwith."

"Doctor, if you'll-"

"Save your breath. My daughter was sent to your country to sort out her priorities. It was Lydia's accursed idea; I told her she'd be put right in boarding school, but my ever-loving 'alternative approach' wife thought repotting her in American soil would shake her up. Too right it did – shook her brains loose! How on earth did she even come to be here instead of her host dwelling? No one can seem to answer that!"

Charles Xavier was finally reaching the end of his patience. "That is a longer story than I'm sure you're ready to hear after your flight across the Atlantic. Suffice it to say that she belongs here as much as any of my other charges."

His beady eyes narrowed from behind his glasses. "Are you insinuating that my Risty is one of those abominations? Poppycock! Twaddle! Complete and utter fabrication!"

"Irrefutable fact," the Professor said quietly. "She possesses the X-gene. There is ample paperwork documenting my findings if you'd care to look."

"This paperwork is open to the public, is it?"

"It is not. Public opinion on the status of human beings with deviations in genetic code that allow for mutation is... shall we say 'low', as evidenced by your bursting my door down and threatening to remove her from our 'negative influences'. There are already a myriad of internet pages that were once devoted to lists of felons who may be living in suburban neighborhoods, which now detail lists of known mutants, whether or not they've ever done anything wrong. I shall not add fuel to their flames of hatred."

The man was still breathing hard, but he seemed to be thinking hard, too. Finally, he passed a hand over his mustache and said, "Right, let's see the papers. Might as well figure out if you're a charlatan or only mental."

"Ororo?" When he said her name, she stood, nodded politely at Dr. Wilde and swept from the room. He watched her like a hawk the whole time, as if she might jump on him and start chewing his face off or whatever.

"So, assuming this X-gene whatnot isn't rubbish, why's my little girl kipping with the crazies? You're living in a basement, for Christ's sake – under an old abandoned warehouse!"

"Decimated mansion," the Professor corrected him, sounding more tired. "A few weeks ago it was a grand sight to behold. Now, it is a pile of rocks. Believe you me when I say this is a temporary setback; it was insured against all forms of damage, and we are working to rebuild as fast as we can."

"Probably damaged it yourselves," he muttered.

"Just because we are devoted to nonviolence doesn't mean we escape acts of terrorism. The party responsible has paid a dear price for such indiscretion."

That surprised me, hearing him say that. What price had Mystique paid? She pretty much got off free and clear. But then I thought about how alone she was, losing me and Kurt, and I decided she had been punished after all.

"And my daughter's going to be safe here, is she? Where you're attacked by terrorists, where you shoot laser beams at each other and built giant robots? That's lunacy, that is! Who's to say  _you_  won't kill her before these supposed terrorists get the chance?"

"Safer here with a caring support network than alone in a world that fears and mistrusts her based on nothing more than how she was born."

Now the man looked angry. Not just full of hot air like before, but seething and bloodthirsty. "She'll have a caring support network. Her family. There is nothing stronger on earth than the bond of blood."

"We  _are_  family." The Professor leaned back and slightly to one side in his wheelchair. "A few of my students have been here for several years. We trust each other, depend on each other, the same as any blood relations would."

"That's-"

And then Ororo entered with a stack of papers, which she handed to Dr. Wilde without word. Knowing her as well as I did, I could tell she already wanted him gone, and I agreed. This guy was seriously putting a crimp in my short-and-curlies. The one thing that really upset me was that Risty was just standing there and listening with this sad puppy-dog look on her face. Had the Professor secretly told her to shut up, too?

"Well, this all  _looks_  legitimate," he was grunting after he'd flipped through the stack, examining one or two sheets more closely. "But as I'm no expert in the field, you'll forgive me if I don't take your word for it."

"By all means, find another expert in my field," Xavier laughed. "Then bring him around. I'd genuinely welcome his viewpoints."

"I think you're lying about all of this," the man came clean, folding his arms. "Doctored lab results, underground lairs... and does everyone dye their hair in this rat's nest?"

"None of us have dyed hair," Risty spoke up coldly. "Natural roots all 'round."

"It is true," Ororo added. "Mine has been white since the day I was born."

Dr. Wilde glared at Storm for a second – which didn't bother her much – before he turned on his daughter. "Don't play games with me, young lady. Just because you've been dyeing it for ages doesn't mean I don't remember what it used to-"

"It  _is._ " She yanked a strand out by the root and handed it to him. "Look. I'd have to dye it brown to cover up the purple now."

He brushed the hair away like it was bothering him on purpose. "Bah, I've no time for this. Go and pack your things. We're out of this cuckoo's nest." Risty said "Dad" at the same moment the Professor said "Doctor", but he overrode them both. "No, enough talk! You're supposed to be learning discipline and respect, not how to sleep in sewers and blow up buildings! So we're taking you back to England and enrolling you in a proper boarding school, where we can keep an eye on you and they can keep you in  _line!_ Now let's get going, move it, spit-spot!"

They left the room, Risty shooting me a helpless glance before the doors shut. Instantly, I whirled on the Professor and said, "Come on, don't let him do this! We gotta stop him!"

"How?" he sighed, rubbing his temples. Storm allowed herself to let out a low growl, one I'd bet she was holding in the whole time. "The shortsighted fool has made up his mind, and he is her legal guardian. My hands are tied."

"Hell no," I whispered. "He is not- I won't let him get away with it!"

"Enough," he snapped. "Before you go too far, I forbid you to use your powers against that civilian. We have enough problems to be going on with. It is Dr. Wilde's right as a parent to make staggering mistakes that will ruin his child's future, so long as they're not illegal. He'll not be swayed, won't listen to reason... it's beyond our ability to do anything about it. Soon enough, it will be within Risty's power as an adult to do whatever she pleases, and I can only hope she returns to us then."

My jaw set as I glared at the Professor. The look he returned was pitying and dejected; he didn't like it any more than me. But he was the big man, the only one who kept us a respectable Institute; he had to work within the law as much as possible or we'd lose everything, be forced into hiding in the caves again, or worse. So instead of screaming at him like I wanted to, I excused myself and ran out.

But one thing he'd said was wrong. He said she'd be back soon enough, when she graduated and wasn't under her folks's thumb anymore. Swell.

Except it's  _not_  soon enough. Not for me.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XXVIII


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a small announcement at the end of this chapter. Again. Lol.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

"Is this really all you have?"

Both my hands were digging into my hips as I tried to look at the man who called himself my father. What a ponce. How could my genetic code have contained bits of that gormless old codger? I hated him. Oh, how I hated him, every time we spoke, every time he was condescending and rude and inconsiderate. Which  _was_  every time we spoke. I honestly couldn't remember the last time I'd heard so much as a backhanded compliment from the bastard, nevermind something outwardly kind.

"It is."

"All the easier," he grunted, shoving my two or three articles of clothing and my jewelry box into his suitcase. "I packed light, so you won't even need your own luggage."

"How serendipitous."

Now he turned and glared at me. "Don't you take that tone with me, Risty. I've not forgotten how to put you over my knee when necessary."

I let out a weak laugh. "You do that at my age and they'll arrest you for sexual abuse."

"Where did you find all that time to dirty up your mind?" he blustered. "Over here, where schools only teach you how to wear spandex and spend needless amounts of my hard-earned pounds? No, bugger it all, I'm taking you back where you belong, and we'll put this ludicrous chapter behind us."

"Mm."

He pushed open the door and found himself staring down a miffed Rogue.

"Out of my way," my father ordered her.

"Nope."

 _OH, BOLLOCKS._ My instinctive urge to duck and cover was overpowering; this wasn't going to be at all pretty.

"It shouldn't need repeating," he said, voice a dangerous growl. "One side."

"And I shouldn't have to say 'nope' again, but I will if it makes you feel better. Call me crazy, but I got this hunch that Risty wants to stay."

He sneered at her. "Stay and learn proper English the way you have? Thank you, but no thank you. Now then, I said move aside and I meant it!"

My hands curled into fists as I watched him shove my friend aside and stomp out, but what choice did I have? I knew with disheartening certainty that there wasn't a thing I could do to fight this – not without landing myself in a penitentiary.

"Risty-"

"No, Rogue," I pleaded in a whisper as we watched him struggling with both of his bags. "Do nothing rash. It's bad enough he's taking me without... without you doing something foolhardy to waylay him and winding up in hot water on my account. So please, for the love of humanity, keep your nose out."

"But I can't lose you!" she choked out.

My lip trembled as I smiled and touched her cheek. "We'll meet again. Count on it."

"Let's get cracking!" my genitor shot over his shoulder. "Flights to book, hotel stays to cancel, all that tripe! Step lively!"

"You really won't even let me say goodbye to my friend?" I burst out, unable to stop myself. "Earnestly, this is how unyielding you are? Wow. You are unparalleled, Father Dearest."

"What friends? They're all nutters who've made pacts with demons, and you're better off without them anyway! Now let's-"

"Maybe she is, but don't you think she deserves a chance to tell us that herself?"

Father blinked at Scott, then peered around at Jean, Kurt, Evan, Kitty, Bobby, Scott, Amara, and... Logan. Christ, even Logan was there. What did they think they were playing at?

"What do you think you're playing at?" my father thundered, as if we were reading from the same script.  _Urgh,_  sometimes I hate being forced to admit we aren't so dissimilar. "Out of my way, I'm bound for the elevator!"

"We're not giving Risty up without a fight!" Kitty snapped.

"With all due respect, Sir," Jean began with more tact, "you're making a big mistake. She's found a home here, she has friends here. Taking her away from all that... how can that be what's in her best interests?"

"Forget it," he told them. "I've already given the top banana a piece of my mind, and I've nothing more to say to the riffraff. I'm coming through."

"Not likely," Evan said, creating a bonespike within his hand. But then I saw Scott shake his head slightly, and Evan retracted it. This had to be done with diplomacy, not violence.

"Are you holding me hostage?" he shouted, already worked up into a lather. "I'll contact your armed services about this!"

Dad put down the briefcase and withdrew his cell, but faster than he could follow the chain of events, Kurt had teleported next to him, touched it, and teleported back. He didn't even bother to explain what he'd done, just slipped it into his pocket innocently.

"What- where did- that's impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible, Dr. Wilde," Jean said. "Improbable, maybe. But anything can happen. Anything."

"Enough threats and banter!" Father whirled on Logan. "You there – whoever you are, you look like an authority figure! Can't you teach them a lesson in respecting their elders?"

"Oh, no ya don't," Logan rumbled, arms as folded as they'd been to begin with. "Ain't my problem. Just here t' make sure nobody does nothin' stupid."

"You're all mad as a box of frogs. You'll not get away with this. I am taking my daughter back to the United Kingdom and away from the United States of Dementia, and you will not interfere or I shan't be responsible for my-"

"Shut up, you old creep!" Kitty told him shrilly. "Risty doesn't wanna go with you! Is your head really so far up your ass that you can't tell?"

_"I beg your pardon?"_

"Dr. Wilde, I am a firm believer in a person's right to their own path in life," Scott said adamantly. "If Risty's choice is to go with you, then I'll back off. But if she wants to stay, and you try forcing her against her will... then I can't stand around and watch her be mistreated. She deserves better."

"Risty  _has_  no right to choose," he rebutted. "She is not of majority, and as such, under the law, we will make her choices in her stead, because her mother and I have the wisdom of age. S _he_  can't tell her back from her front anymore, you lot have got her so befuddled!"

"I wouldn't brag too much about that 'wisdom of age' thing if I were you," Bobby told him with a grimace. "You're being pretty dumb right now."

"This is what your beloved 'Institute' teaches? Petty aspersions and pyrotechnics? No, this isn't what she needs, and I don't want to hear another word about it!"

"We've got plenty more where that came from, Pops," Evan told him.

"Just ask her," Jean pleaded. "Ask. But you're afraid to, because you know what she'll say. You're afraid to hear her choose us over you."

"Her choice is irrelevant." My father was about to reach critical mass, and I knew it. Not that it helped. How would I even go about stopping him? Or them, either? All I could do was stand there and watch the events unfold, fearful of the outcome. "She... is coming... with me. End of story."

"Not until we hear it from her," Scott repeated himself.

"Why do you even wanna take her home?" Kitty flung accusingly. "Because I hear you got a rotten track record in the 'dad' department! You just wanna have her to kick around a little while longer, that's all! How pathetic!"

"I refuse to be slandered by a prepubescent Satanist!" he thundered. "We've tried to take a firm hand with her in the past, but it hasn't been firm enough because she continues to fall in with the wrong crowd! Tell me, has she vandalised any police cars on this side of the pond, or is that scheduled for next Thursday?"

Everyone expressed varying levels of surprise at my father's revelation. Oh joy; thanks, Dad, truly.

"One time," I protested quietly enough that only Rogue probably heard me. Probably.

"Her past doesn't matter here," Scott spoke up first. He excelled at staying focused on the task at hand, that boy. "It's her future we're worried about. All our futures – mutantkind.  _Mankind_."

"Yes, the grand 'mutant' speech your vaunted Professor gave me. You're a bunch of lunatics who've made pacts with Lucifer, and you expect me to buy this bilge about saving the world? You'd have better luck convincing me the moon is made of cheese."

"Isn't it?" Kurt said with a slight smile.

"You come into our home," Evan began with barely-restrained anger, "try kidnapping one of our own, and then you think you can start accusing  _us_  of being evil? Take a look in the friggin' mirror, chump!"

"She is  _not_  yours! She is  _mine_  –  _my_  daughter, a member of  _my_  family! Your hypnotic hold on her will not keep me from returning her where she belongs!"

"She belongs  _here!"_ Kitty argued. My God, she truly was losing it; I could see it in her eyes that it wouldn't be long before she made some horrible, desperate play. "Where she's loved, where she fits in! I can tell you hate her, so quit acting like you're Super Dad and admit that she's better off here! Just admit it, you psycho!"

"Kitty, it's okay," Jean said evenly, hugging Kitty close as she broke down, the bite of rage lacing through every sob. "Calm down, it's gonna be okay."

"No it's not!" Kitty turned back to glare at him, teeth bared even as her fists balled around bunches of Jean's shirt. "What about Rogue, huh? What's she gonna do if you take Risty away? You can't split them up, they're like... like  _Thelma and Louise!"_

"Nice comparison," Bobby hissed. "You do know they die at the end of the movie, right?"

"Oh... uh, wish I had before I said that."

"Not only barking, but heads full of cobwebs," Father remarked. "How pedestrian and American. Risty, you can't honestly want to stay with these layabouts, can you?"

And even after all that, I held my tongue. What they were doing for me was more than touching; it was breathtaking. But I couldn't deceive myself into thinking my father was about to let this go simply because they made a stink. He'd have me spirited away to England by hook or by crook. Why should they put themselves at risk for naught?

"Good girl. Now, ask them to move aside."

 _"NO!"_ Kitty screamed, darting at my father. Jean and Bobby tried to hold her back, but she phased through their hands to stand directly in front of him, arms out to her sides and teeth bared. "You're not gonna take her away! She's one of us now!"

"Step  _back,_  you insipid –  _eh?"_

It was worth it to see him stagger when he tried pushing her shoulder to the side and his arm passed through her body. Any moment I got to witness my father being wrong-footed filled me up with the warm fuzzies.

"Demonic," he breathed, staring at her in wonderment. "You're all full of darkness."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Evan laughed.

"Your daughter has somebody special to her here," Kitty went on as if nothing had occurred after she walked forward. "That's worth hanging onto, isn't it? So ask her for once! Ask her if she's ready to give it up just so she can go to freaking  _boarding school!"_

Most of his anger replaced by terror, he slowly turned to stare at me. Step by plodding step, he approached, until he was only a few feet away. "What's this about, Risty? What is that possessed pipsqueak on about?"

Rogue looked at her feet. For a horrible instant, I thought she was actually going to tell my father the truth. Say it right to his face, that his daughter was running around, chasing skirts instead of well-to-do businessmen. The shock of it might have provoked a coronary – and there were positive and negative aspects of that from my way of thinking. But did I really want it out there, exposed to the entire throng behind him?

"I..." That was all I could get out.

"Not this tart here," he said in disbelief, pointing at Rogue. I could see the wheels turning, taking him back to when he'd walked up to the front steps. "You nick this idea from Jenna? She was about your age when she dabbled in that nonsense. Well, I don't believe it; you'll have to do better th-"

"She  _what?"_ I yelped, unable to camouflage my reaction. "Nobody ever told me about this! Since when did Big Sis fancy girls?"

"She doesn't," he told me acidly. "Not after we put the fear of God into her. And we'll do the same for you if we ever hear talk of it again, understand?"

My blood turned to icewater as I struggled to remain upright. Dear Jenna... I'd spent my whole life resenting how 'together' she'd seemed, how successful and ostensibly _normal_ she'd become, and all this time she may have been maligned as badly or worse than I. How precisely had they 'put the fear of God' into my poor, poor sister?

"No, not me," Rogue whispered. "D-don't worry, I'm not... well, I'm just not. I'm nobody."

She lied. She lied to save me further persecution, in front of witnesses. And it hurt worse than dying.

"Fine," he grunted, putting her out of his mind and turning back to me. "Now, enough of this foolishness, and I mean it; they can stamp and shout all they want, but in the end we are  _going back to England._  Final word. Your mother's been ill ever since she saw on the news that these pests are going to the same secondary school you attend, and she's anxious to have you home. Forget about them and their hippy-dippy compound. Let's be off."

He'd just reached the spot where he'd dropped his luggage when I whispered, "No."

"Pardon?"

"I said 'no', Father."

As he turned to glare at me, I couldn't help but zero in more strongly on the expressions gracing the X-Men's faces. Jean and Kitty bore bleary smiles. Evan nodded in satisfaction as if he'd been waiting impatiently. Kurt and Bobby high-fived. Amara sighed with relief, pounding on her chest to get her heart restarted. Scott, however, remained as tensed and ready for action as ever. Moreso now that I'd admitted I wanted to stay, actually. Focused.

"Would you care to repeat that, young lady?"

"Gladly." Stepping forward, I planted my feet in a wide stance, every muscle in my body clenched as I stared him down. "I've had enough of your badgering and micromanaging. It's time for you to piss off."

"I'll take you with me if I have to drag you kicking and screaming!"

"Ah, ah, ah," Scott spoke up. "Sir, you might wanna keep in mind that I don't make idle threats."

"Then I'll be back with the police!" he counter-threatened. "We'll see what they have to say about imprisoning a minor!"

"But she isn't imprisoned," I barked. "She's staying of her own volition in a foreign exchange program. Won't be long before I graduate, and then perhaps I'll seek a job over here, get m' green card. Maybe I'll even work on this 'hippy-dippy compound' full-time."

"These hippies aren't any peacenik friends," he goaded, incensed, vein throbbing in his forehead. "They're drug-crazed neo-Nazis who're going about causing mayhem and burning down mansions, why would you possibly-"

"They  _are_  my friends! Look at them!" With a commanding gesture toward the line of students behind him, I laughed. "Take a good, hard look at my friends, how they're standing up for me! Can't say as I've ever known a stauncher group! But their display pales next to the one you completely overlooked, you nearsighted berk!"

He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the unwanted information that had been stuck in his ear. "What are you yammering about  _now?"_

"This!" I shouted down at him, grasping Rogue's hand and lifting it upward. Tears began to stain my voice and I couldn't care anymore, I couldn't temper my words with indecisiveness or worry or doubt any longer. "She's my best friend, and everything I've ever needed in human companionship, and for no greater reason than that you've practically soiled yourself over nothing, she says  _she's_  'nothing' so as not to worsen your black mood! Throwing herself on the grenade, trying to keep me out of the line of fire? That's the truest example of friendship I've ever –  _ever_ seen, and... and she did it for me!"

"I don't understand, Risty!" he snapped, eyes round as he tried to make sense of my actions. "What... she said she was... for God's sake, talk some sense!"

"How's this for sense?" I shouted. "If you take me away from her, I'll...  _I'll kill myself!"_

Right. So perhaps one or two of you grasp the irony of this juvenile statement, but it's a bit late for a retraction.

"Stuff and nonsense!" he accused, even as I heard a few gasps from the gallery. "You will not kill yourself, you never have done and I doubt you will! Wildes don't suicide!"

"Fine," I admitted. "You're right; that wouldn't make things any better. But I will fight tooth and nail until we are reunited. Whoever gets in my way.  _Whoever._ "

"Why? What's so bloody special about this one?"

"Everything you can name." I could feel Rogue cringing beside me, waiting for the hammer blow that would shatter her image, and her anonymity, and everything that was shielding her from harm's way. And I felt terrible... but it was too late. "God, what do I have to say? She's my best mate. Life-mate."

A few of the X-Men who hadn't quite arrived there before I said it gasped, or said  _"No way!"_  But over Father's shoulder, I could see two things that filled me with satisfaction: Kitty giving me an over-excited thumbs-up through her tears, and Scott's grim determination, not remotely ruffled by my announcement. It was a booster shot of confidence I needed.

"Load of old tosh," he blustered, but his voice was a lot less self-assured than it had been moments previous. "You make it sound as if you and she- wait..." He shot a brief look back at Kitty, then turned back to me. "You can't be serious. Not with..."

"You can try and split us up if you like, but it'll be a wasted effort; I'll find my way back. I always do."

"Risty..." That was Rogue, and that one word was enough to turn all my rickety, wooden resolve into adamantium.

"Then that takes the biscuit. You are most certainly coming home with us; I'll not have you flushing your life down the toilet over some gutter trash!"

Five seconds passed in silence as I digested that. Just long enough to decide what needed to be done. "Ohhh,  _NO SIR."_ Glowering, I stepped toward him and extended my hand, pointing straight at his heart. "No one insults my woman like that. Not even you, Daddy."

All I could see was my hand, but watching it turn gray was enough to suggest the rest of me had followed suit. He watched in abject horror as steam began rising from beneath my shoes, and my eyes doubtless yellowed the way his mustache had from too many pipes of tobacco. My death rattle rose in volume, and the register of my voice dropped, and I swear I heard the clinking of distant chains.

"This is where I belong; with my fellow freaks. Judge not, lest ye be judged – and I am the final judge, jury and executioner. Lazarus is rising while the sun sets on  _you,_ you overbearing dictator!  _BEGONE!"_

My empathic wave drilled into him, and he was sweating torrents, jerking to and fro like I had electrocuted him. Maybe I had; for all I knew, that was the next power on the horizon (though I worried it would clash with my other abilities). For an instant, he cowered on the ground, fully convinced he was about to die a horrible, gory death. When a few minutes passed and nothing happened, he peered up at me through two fingers.

Of course I was back to normal by then. Firstly, keeping up the ghastly appearance  _and_ shooting off a willy-wave really took it out of me. Secondly, I'd done what I set out to do. Maybe now he'd understand.

"Very well," he growled quietly. "You... you truly have become one of them. I see that, now. You're too steeped in the witchcraft to be rescued. So be it." Standing, he brushed his clothing free of dust and began stomping over to his bags, both Rogue and I keeping pace. "You can complete your studies abroad, and then that's it. You're completely disowned. Don't post anything, don't beg for handouts. Make your own way in this world with your heathen accomplices. You're dead to us."

 _"More_ irony _,_ " Kurt whispered.

Shoving his hand into the suitcase, he began flinging my precious few belongings through the air and onto the floor of the hallway – it was an utter low, a boorish showing of how little he thought of me. Despite my hatred for him at that moment, my heart broke a touch further when I watched my red lace panties flutter to the ground in unrestricted view of my friends, and then yet more when my jewelry box broke open, spilling the contents everywhere. There would be no going home again.

"Goodbye, Risty."

"Goodbye, Father. Tell Mum the same."

Without looking at me again, he stomped off, shoving his way between Kitty and Amara and into the elevator. And that was the last I saw of him.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yadda yadda yadda, here's a sequel soundtrack. You knew it was coming, but I thought I'd post the listing right after the chapter where Risty gives a hearty Eff-You to her pater. Pay special attention to how much more... European this mix is, due to it being Risty's.
> 
> Evolution Of Friends: Risty's Mix
> 
> 1\. Rabblerouser [KMFDM/MDFMK]  
> 2\. The Grudge [Tool]  
> 3\. Days Before You Came [Placebo]  
> 4\. Fascination Street [Lunasect] (or the original by The Cure if you prefer)  
> 5\. The Everlasting Gaze [Smashing Pumpkins]  
> 6\. It's No Good [Depeche Mode]  
> 7\. Get Down Make Love [Nine Inch Nails]  
> 8\. Knives Out [Radiohead]  
> 9\. Freak on a Leash [KoЯn]  
> 10\. Orestes [A Perfect Circle]  
> 11\. Leave Me Alone [2wo (Two)]  
> 12\. It's Enough Now [Mandalay]  
> 13\. Fade [Staind]  
> 14\. Parabola [Tool]  
> 15\. Black-Eyed [Placebo]  
> 16\. Medication [Garbage]  
> 17\. I Feel Loved (Danny Tenaglia Labor Of Love Edit) [Depeche Mode]
> 
> Enjoy times whee! One more chapter... maybe. :evil grin:


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of the linear story; there's an epilogue to be dealt with (isn't there always?) and that'll be the last. And let's just say it's ironic that the Roman numerals for "Thirty" are "XXX", because... ah, but that would be telling, wouldn't it?

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

_"BASTARD."_

Everyone pretty much said it at the same time, though I think one or two of them might have used another word. I know it was what Risty and I were saying.

"It's better this way," she assured us shakily, stooping to maneuver a few of her trinkets back into the jewelry box. "I... he always dreaded the biennial calls home, and... now he won't have t-to put up w-with..."

"Risty, it's okay," I soothed, my hand on her back.

"Rogue, I am all alone in this world now," she said starkly, eyes wide and unfocused. "Not a copper to my name. An orphan, for all intents and purposes. I... I've lost everything."

"Not everything."

Actually, it was Jean who said that, not me. When Risty and I looked up at her, we were both equally surprised to see every X-Man who'd been watching this shit-show standing around her, all holding out a handful of her spilled barbells, hoops and studs. Dewey-eyed, she raised the box upward and held the fractured lid back, and they all poured the jewelry inside it, and it was like some kind of beautiful friendship ceremony that I think should be practiced all over the planet.

"Cheers,  _mes amis,_ " she blubbered. "I... oh, I haven't lost anything at all, have I?"

Silently, they began picking up her clothes, the men-folk careful not to come into contact with undergarments. Then we all filed back to our cozy room and put it all away. And nobody spoke the whole time; too much had gone on. On their way out, Scott, Amara, Evan, Bobby and Kurt all patted Risty on the back or squeezed her shoulder, and she smiled at them, touched their hands. From across the hall, we caught sight of Logan nodding with a slight grin before he took off; I knew he thought Lavender did exactly what he'd have done.

"So  _that_  happened," Kitty said. She and Jean had hung back, of course. Girl talk.

"It did." Risty rubbed the side of her face, then looked up and asked, "How'd you lot even know what was happening? Did I activate some kind of distress beacon?"

"Rogue did," Jean said with a slight smile. "She ran past me like her clothes were on fire, and I picked up the basic idea that your dad was trying to take you away from us. So I sent out a hasty call to our team, and they showed. I didn't contact Amara, though; she must have been hanging out with one of the others and tagged along."

"Well, she was more than welcome to. This is... words can't express-"

"Then don't," she said with a shake of her head. "It's what we're all about."

"Oh, you  _guys!"_  Kitty bubbled as she threw her arms around us, and there was nothing ghostly about her deathgrip that time, I can tell you. "I knew it would all work out, I just knew it!"

"What do you mean?" I asked with a slight laugh.

"Y'know... 'life-mates'? Kind of hard to miss that one, even for me."

"Look," Risty began nervously, "I just said that to goad my father. He was being a curmudgeon to the lot of you and it was time I took him down a peg."

"So you didn't mean it?" she needled.

I couldn't see her face through Kitty's head, but I'm guessing she was squirming. "W-ell... that's neither here nor there."

"And it's none of our business," Jean insisted, pulling Kitty back by the scruff of her neck. No, really, just like she was actually an inquisitive cat. "They've got a lot to discuss, I think. We should probably go."

"Before you do..." Risty grasped both of them by the forearm. "I want to thank you girls from the bottom of my old heart. For everything you've done. Jean for straightening out my cluttered mind and coming to my rescue  _again_  not an hour later, and Kitty for... for being Kitty! You're one in a million, luv."

"Ah," she said with a huge smile. "Just doing what I thought was right."

"She's kinda good at that," I echoed. "But yeah, thanks. Both of you."

When Jean felt my eyes burning a hole through her, she shrugged and looked down at her shoes; my unspoken apology for tearing her head off earlier had been accepted. I still made a mental note to do a better job of that later, though.

They left us alone in our room so we could "discuss". Which I wasn't ready to do yet, but it woulda been ten times harder if we put a lid on it until later.

"So."

Risty slid her ring up and down her index finger. "So now you've been graced by my father's sunny presence."

"Guess I have."

"Blimey, Rogue, I never wanted you to come face-to-face with my estranged family. I never even wanted you in the same twenty-mile radius."

I gave a small shrug. "Can't say I really enjoyed myself back there, but don't sweat it, alright? I'm just glad you showed him the darker side of Risty so he'd leave you behind."

"Lazarus strikes again."

"Did... did you really graffiti a cop car?"

"Funny enough, I did," she laughed. "You really didn't seem to take it to heart when I said I was an unholy terror a few years back. That wasn't even the worst thing I've done, but it's a prime example."

I laughed, too. "Just wanted my stories straight."

"I'm not proud of it, luv. But if he thought drudging up ancient history might browbeat me into returning home, he was sorely mistaken. I  _have_  changed since coming here. He's just too blind to see it."

"He is," I told her earnestly. "Well... maybe I don't know jack about who you were in Tea-And-Crumpet Central, but you've been nothing but good people over here. That's all I care about."

"I've hardly eaten any crumpets in my lifetime," she chided, placing a finger on the end of my nose. "But they're killer with Camembert."

I was too distracted to ask what the hell a Camembert is.

"Risty..."

"Overly-fond gesture," she said sheepishly, withdrawing her hand. "Too soon. Sorry."

"It's not," I pleaded. "No really, please don't hold off on that stuff, not because... I m-mean, it's okay."

"After meeting the wretch who sired me, and knowing I'm a delinquent, and that I've still got most of Mystique on hard disk... you still think it's okay?"

"Don't matter none," I insisted.

Then she smiled at me, and I felt like I was burning up all over; it was the kind of smile nobody had ever aimed at me before, one that promised things and hinted at a lot more. Her finger went back to my nose as she stepped closer, until all I could see was two huge eyes rimmed with violet eyeshadow and the very edge of her fingernail. "I love it when you come over all 'country gal'. It's the most adorable thing."

"Aw, shucks, ma'am." That one was on purpose, and we both grinned. Then, before we could do any more pointless thinking or talking, I leaned in and kissed her.

The problem in trying to describe this is that I got nothing to compare it to. Never kissed anybody before that day, and we all know why. It was simple and to the point, no tongues, no heavy breathing, just lips on lips. But to me, it was magical and intense and full of everything I'd hoped it would be, and some other stuff I'd never have expected. And I wanted it to keep going from then 'til Monday.

But I did pull away after a few seconds. A few less than I wanted to, but a few more than I thought I could get away with. Then we giggled for about five minutes. It was funny! Not because it was bad, but because it was so easy that we suddenly knew how ridiculous we'd been to run around avoiding the first one this whole time.

"Well, that's one milestone in the rear-vision," Risty finally was able to chuckle once we'd sorta kinda caught our breath.

"God," I sighed, wiping my eyes tiredly. "This has been the longest frickin' day."

Risty nodded along with me. "Amen to that. Shall we get our eight hours in?"

"Nah, not yet," I grunted as I pushed to my feet. "Now that we actually got to kiss each other  _before_  the whole mansion figures out we're, uh, more-than-friends, it's time to face the music out there."

"Skip it," Risty sighed, flopping back onto the cot. "We can barricade the door and deal with repercussions in the morning."

"Come on, lazy bones," I laughed, yanking on her arm so hard she winced. "Up we get."

"Spoilsport."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

It wasn't so bad. We ambled through the hallways and grabbed a snack from the kitchen, and a few kids either stared at us like we'd turned into Mister Sinister clones or demanded to know if the rumours were true. It amused us to hedge around it, but we never lied. Of course, our closer friends like Kurt or Evan got straighter answers, and they asked some stupid stuff like "But how does it  _work?"_  but mostly they were cool. And, of course, Kitty attacked us with another of her hugs.

The Professor seemed to already know everything that had gone on; I guess from Jean. When I grunted that she had a talkative brain, Risty actually snapped at me. It hadn't really been clear to me until that point just how much she'd helped patch up her mental quilt, which made me feel even worse for how bitchy I'd been toward the redhead outside the bathroom. While Risty and the Prof went over her father's departure, I hunted Jean down and we had a long, antsy conversation. By the end of it, we were hugging and apologizing and pretty much being sappy and gross, and we decided to pick a day and go do something together, just the two of us. It was about time I stopped resenting her over the boy I wouldn't be pining after anymore.

It was so late by that point that the moon was looming large over the Institute grounds. Risty found me out there cooling down from my therapy session with Marvel Girl, and we set off at an easy walk, looping around and discussing all sorts of crud. Then she told me something surprising.

"So how is she?" I asked anxiously.

"Quite well." I was secretly admiring the way her striking features were outlined by the lunar rays. Sorry, too poetically emo? "We... I won't say it wasn't upsetting and that we didn't say a few unkind things, but Jenna genuinely seems to miss me. And when I told her about you,  _well,_  I couldn't get her to clam up!"

"Really? Like how?"

"Like the bit that she's been dating women for ages. When our parents caught her at it and gave her their patented stern lecture, she dialed it back until escaping to university, but then all systems were go. In fact, right now she's quite serious about this bird who's a drag king – you know, dresses up like a bloke for stage shows and the like. She's even had her 'round to Mum and Dad's for tea a few times, always in costume, and they wholeheartedly approve of the 'young lad'. It helps immensely that her name is Samantha."

Once I put two and two together, I grinned delightedly. "So when she says, 'Hey, I'm bringing Sam over,' nobody catches on. That's smart."

"It's bloody priceless, that's what it is!" she crowed. "And she... she said she's right proud of me for standing up to him about you and I, that it's something she ought to do herself but she's been putting it off. You know, I won't be surprised if next time I ring her she tells me they're in the hospital after having fainted dead away from shock."

"Sounds like sapphism runs in the family." We both laughed, then fell silent as we walked, enjoying the crisp night air. After a while, I said, "I'm glad you guys are talking again. Sucks that your parents were so up in arms about controlling you that they drove you apart to begin with."

" _Que sera sera,_ " she sighed. "But enough about the Wildes for one evening. For that matter, no more talking. I forbid anyone to speak for the remainder of tonight."

The corner of my mouth turned up as I whispered, "I can live with that."

And from that point, when I was hooking my index and middle fingers around the front of her waistband and pulling her toward me, nobody said a word 'til dawn.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Now, don't get all excited. We barely did anything. Why not, you ask? Hmm. When most kids first get their learner's permit, they don't go, "Great! Now that I can drive, I'm goin' through Mexico all the way to Panama." They usually start slow, like doing doughnuts in an empty parking lot. That's the best analogy I can come up with for me and Risty that night: student driving with our feet hovering over the brake pedal.

We didn't even share the cot. Sure, you'd think that'd be even easier with our shiny new relationship status, but we both agreed that was second-night-as-a-couple material. So Risty took the floor, because it was her turn anyway, but I kept leaning over to get one last kiss in before we settled in to sleep. And we talked a lot, and we said stuff that embarrassed each other, and it was all kinds of amazing. That part only lasted about an hour, because no matter how excited and terrified we were, it had already been the longest day in history and we gave in to fatigue.

Nine hours later when I woke up ( _told_ you we were tired!), I found her arm around me, and I smiled. Knew she couldn't stay away. But when I craned my neck around to look at her, I was startled to find her eyes pointed at me affectionately.

"Hi," I gurgled, still half-asleep. "Wha... what're you doin'?"

"Watching you sleep."

I made a face. "Seriously? How was it?"

"Picturesque." That got my blood flowing - and quick.

"C-come on, don't be stupid."

"I'm not," she told me, so bluntly I found I couldn't breathe anymore. "To foolishly incriminate myself, this, er... isn't the first time, either."

" _Really?"_

"Really. Maybe the third or fourth. Something about how you look there, eyes closed, peaceful... it's like a living, breathing painting by the French masters."

I rolled over to face her, vaguely aware of how close our bodies were, how much was touching. "You d-did it before... like, even before yesterday, when we were only... how come?"

She bit her lip for a moment, thinking. "Can't help myself."

Things were entering another time zone of intense. Risty thought I was cute. Sure, why not? I'll tell you why not; I don't agree with her. Nobody but Irene had ever bothered to say as much, so where would I have gotten that impression? And up to that minute, I hadn't been thinking about if we were attracted to each other, or if either of us was sexy. Not really. Because it had all been on a spiritual level, which sounds like some New Age bull but it's true. I liked who she was and what she meant to me, so her looks or what she thought of mine hadn't mattered. Now, she was lying there complimenting me – and laying it on pretty damn thick. Obviously she didn't think I looked like a baboon's backside.

But as soon as I digested that (which was once I remembered that we were more or less an "item" now), I looked at Risty with fresh eyes. My mouth popped open and let out a  _"WHOA."_

"What is it, luv?"

"You are friggin'  _hot!_ "

She laughed, loud and clear and unrestrained. "Am I, now? That's bolstering; at least I don't have to worry about being chased by the dog catcher."

"Holy Moses, I-" Suddenly, I knew there was no way I could articulate it to her with so much grace and meaning, not the way she had. I wanted to, I wanted to let her inside my head so she could know how I saw her in that time-delayed instant. Oh, well. Instead, I placed my fingertips on the side of her neck and whispered, "How'd I get so lucky?"

"Lucky? Bad luck, if any."

I shook my head violently, eyes brimming with tears. "Man, I wish I'd just asked you out the first time I saw you. We wasted so much time."

The vein in her neck jumped under my finger; I felt it, and I shivered. "Come again? You... no. You wanted to ask me out, then and there in the gymnasium?"

"Hell no; I thought I was straight! Which makes me a dope. If I hadn't been so oblivious to you being a complete babe, we'd probably have got to the good part sooner."

"Sweetie, this isn't even adjacent to the good part," she uttered, her own hand trailing through my white bangs in that way that makes my every atom tingle. "We're still in the dull, meandering part – and look how lovely  _that_  feels!"

A thrill of fear shot through me. "Then... how's the good part going to feel? I might not be able to handle any more!"

Risty proved me right by tracing her fingernail along the inside of my ear, causing me to twitch away from it, breathing hard. "Time will tell, my darling Rogue. But for now, let's get some breakfast, I'm utterly famished."

"Oh, no you don't," I said, the hand I had on her neck sliding around to cup the base of her skull, threading through purple strands. "I'm having breakfast in bed."

"You are?" she breathed, exhilaration colouring her cheeks and sparking in her hazel eyes. "And... whatever will you eat?"

The breakfast involving actual food didn't happen until about an hour later.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

And I'm not telling you about  _THAT_ , either! Geez, get a life! But hey, I won't deny that a lot of fun was had in our stuffy little room that fine Sunday morn. Maybe once or twice she or I would get carried away and do something that, uh, resulted in more pain than pleasure, but for the most part we set the world on fire. And it burned, and it burned, and burned and burned and burned...

Would it be too much information to tell you that afterward, it was no longer an option for us to skip the showers before we went to breakfast? Figured it would. Oopsie!

Freshly clean and walking on clouds, we danced into the kitchen, where Jean and Scott were trading sections of the newspaper while they pounded down stacks of waffles. Evan and Kitty were leaning against the sink and sipping juice, having just finished and washed their plates and all that. They greeted us a little too warmly, bringing us back to the insanity that had been Saturday with an ungainly  _thump!_

"Nobody died," I reprimanded them in a flat voice. "We're fine. In fact, things are lookin' up from way down here."

"How do you mean?" Scott asked around a bite of bacon.

"With my father out of the picture, I'm now fully committed to Xavier's vision for a snazzier tomorrow," Risty said with no hint of sarcasm whatsoever. "Lazarus is on board a thousand per-cent. They won't be needing me to return home anytime soon, so why trouble myself over it? New York is where I'd rather stay!"

"I get allergic smelling hay!" Mr. McCoy followed up with a chuckle as he walked through the door and straight to the coffee pot. "But oblique references to television programming of yesteryear aside, how is everyone?" After we'd all gave him different versions of "fine", he dripped a little cream into his mug and said, "Oh, by the way, Lazarus, I'm delighted to hear your inauspicious reunion with the Wilde patriarch didn't result in our loss of an X-Man. We dodged that bullet, didn't we?"

"Quite," she said with a sigh. "Though it means being shunned at family picnics."

Beast tutted as he twirled his swizzle stick with a giant blue-furred hand. "If they shun you, then so shall they be the poorer for it. You've proven your worth to this team most consummately, both as an asset on the battlefield and a quick-witted young woman with the, ah, 'soul of a champion' or however one might put it. If all they see is heliotrope hair and mutating DNA, then who needs 'em?"

On that note, he lumbered out, leaving Risty blushing and trying to sink lower in her chair.

"I swear, he gets better and better at saying the right thing without trying," Evan muttered. "It's freaky."

"By the way, Risty," Jean said quietly, "I've been meaning to tell you something. Do you remember playing little league soccer?"

"Somewhat," she said as she reached for an orange from the fruit bowl. I stood and got myself a glass of chocolate milk to... replenish fluids (wink, wink). "Always was rather uncoordinated at footy, but not every young tyke can be a star athlete. What of it?"

"Do you, um, remember winning a trophy?"

Risty's forehead wrinkled. "Uhh... not so much. Why?"

"Well, you did," she said sheepishly. "And I dropped the memory when we were in there, and it broke, and and I'm really,  _really_  sorry. But you did win a trophy, I swear."

She let out a little snort. "If that's all I lost in the shuffle, then I'd say we saved most of the noteworthy bits. Thanks for your attention to detail, Mizz Grey."

While Jean was shrugging, Scott said, "Uhh... do I get to know what's going on?"

" _No!"_  they both shouted at him.

"Whatever," he said, holding one hand out to forestall any more hollering while he stood to get rid of his plate.

"Although, I did want to commend our fearless leader for staying abreast of the situation last night," Risty said over her shoulder at him. "'Calm, cool and collected'; we should have it emblazoned in Latin across the rim of your visor."

"Hey, it's my job," he said with a grin as he left. Evan followed him; they were probably off to beat up on some defenseless equipment.

Right when I was arriving at my vacant chair, it suddenly was a lot less vacant. "Dibs on the French Toast!"

"No French Toast today," Kitty laughed at Kurt, the latter of which frowned. "Want some waffles instead?"

" _Nein;_  I had my heart set on gooey, buttery toast," he said dejectedly, then turned to look at the two of us. "Mom, Sis!"

"I'm not above sending this elf back to the North Pole," Risty growled. "Honestly, Mr. Wagner, what are you  _like?"_

"Better cool it with the 'mom' stuff," I warned him. "Touchy subject."

"Alright, I'm sorry," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still... I can't help but feel closer to both of you since finding out ve're all part of the same-"

"What did I just freakin' say? Do you got worms in your ears?"

"Forget it," Risty said, smirking at him. "Would it be an acceptable concession for you to call me sister-in-law instead? That way you can get knotted by those 'ties that bind' without finding a rattlesnake in your jock strap."

Kurt squirmed, hand halfway to a plate of fried eggs. "You... vould do that, vouldn't you? Okay then; I am proud to call you both  _meine Schwestern –_  my sisters _._  As long as you don't hog the bathroom vith your girly preening routines!"

Before either of us could smack him, he'd  _bamf_ ed away – taking the eggs with him. What a geek! Just goes to show that you can always pick your friends, but you can't pick your family. Sometimes that works out for the best, anyway, I guess.

Right after I plunked back down in my reclaimed chair, Kitty slowly crept up behind us and slid her hands over the backs of our chairs, eyes twinkling with mischief.

_"Sooo?"_

"So what?" I grunted.

"How  _waaas_  it?"

Jean actually turned away because she was too ashamed to be part of the conversation anymore. Risty glared evenly at Kitty, even while smiling. "Over and over again, you seem to intentionally forget the old adage about curiosity and cats. It's... it's  _uncanny_  is what it is."

"Come on, guys!" she hissed urgently, literally dancing from foot to foot in anticipation. "Forget the details, just gimme a general report! You two have been waiting, like, forever for this – there's gotta be a juicy story!"

"You wanna know?" I said with a smile and a wink at Risty. "Exactly what it was like?"

"Yes, yes,  _yes_ , now talk already!"

With a blur of speed, we both leaned in and pecked Kitty on either cheek. Her shriek echoed off the walls of the kitchen and down the hallway.

" _I didn't mean SHOW me!_ Ew, lesbian drool,  _eyuck!"_

Now Jean was giggling along with Risty and me, and a few seconds later Kitty couldn't help but join in. She'd earned it, and we got her good.

"Next time you ask," Risty chuckled with a savage grin, "you'll earn yourself a patented Risty Wilde Love Bite. They don't fade for  _weeks._ "

And right then and there, as Jean rolled her eyes and tried to laugh into her fist, and Risty made to tickle Kitty to stop her from griping, I decided I had the best friends money could buy - even if one of the friendships had been plagued by an unexpected evolution. Big deal. That didn't make it any less valuable.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••  
END CH XXX


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear GOD, that was a long, drawn-out journey from there to here! Welcome to the last cigarette in the pack, the last chai latte. So was it worth the wait? Have I ruined it by revisiting it, was it better left as an unfinished work from the peak of X:Evo's popularity? Too late now, I suppose, but I am curious what you think.
> 
> This is actually quite difficult for me to do... post the last bit of it. Rogue and Risty have been lingering in a corner of my heart for seven years. How on earth can I close the book on them? But like all good things, this must also come to its end (or else just hang around half-done forever, which seems even worse than completing it). Driving back into Bayville was like peeling off a scab too early; it felt raw and amazing, but was so difficult to do that it hurt, and I flinched now and then. It took a lot of going back and forth and tearing out my hair before I pounded things into place and figured out how I was going to not only end it, but end it well. Here's hoping you all agree!
> 
> Thanks to every one of my previous reviewers, also to the bashful lurkers as well. I keep doing it for you lot. And now that I've exhausted my thoughts, I'll hand things over to Rogue and let her write the last few paragraphs of her own story.
> 
> Excelsior, True Believers! - Jessex

•Epilogue Of Friends•

So that's it, everybody. I told you my story. Now you know how I learned to stop worrying and love the Brit. Ten points if you get what movie that refers to.

Like I stated at the beginning, every so often I stop and say to myself, "How would life have turned out if I hadn't told Risty I was open?" Only because she destroyed my face with a basketball did we accidentally touch skin, and maybe if we hadn't, and I hadn't got so worked up over why I didn't zap her, she'd never have come clean about being a mutant that used to be locked in the trunk of Mystique's person-car.

That... wasn't a great analogy. I've written better.

She was a mere bobblehead toy on the dashboard of Mystique's person-car. Is that any better? Not really, I guess, but I can't seem to get away from these car metaphors. Sorry. I'm getting off topic, anyway.

Every time I think back to how it all went down, how we ended up with a mutant named Lazarus and I ended up with a girlfriend named Risty, I know I lucked out  _big time._  So maybe some of those things would have been the same whether or not we inducted the heart-stopping X-Man, but what if they weren't? We could have lost the fight with Juggernaut, or never found the Professor. Not to mention that my dance card would have stayed empty.

We've been through a lot since then. Mutants have come and gone... and Mystique has mostly stayed gone. Yep. No huge surprise, but Mommy Dreariest and I haven't patched things up and done that spa retreat yet. She's still a manipulative skank, and she still tries to take over the world every other week... but we have talked once or twice without exchanging threats. Also, I somehow resisted the urge to kill her when I had the chance, even after she sold me out to Mesmero, but only because Kurt insisted she be spared. What? I was  _super_ ticked. She oughtta consider herself fortunate.

Speaking of family, Risty didn't lie; she's never spoken to her parents since Papa Wilde disowned her. Not on the phone, through letters, nothing. But she's kept in touch with Jenna and visited a few times. Met her myself, and she's like kin now. Wish I could say the same for Jenna's then-girlfriend; long (and ugly) story short, she wasn't prepared to be meeting any mutants that day. Which is partly why I said "then-girlfriend", because Jenna wasn't about to let anybody dis her sister over genetics, nevermind any of her sister's significant others. That more than anything has proven to me that sometimes the apples fall far, far away from the tree. As if Kurt and I weren't solid enough proof!

The others? Evan's with the Morlocks now, since he kind of hulked out and decided he belonged out of sight. We miss him. And I got this hunch Kitty has a thing for Bobby these days; she and Kurt had a little something going on but it fizzled. Lance, however, won't quit coming back to bother her now and then. Heard something about Kurt getting with Amanda again, which I'd be totally on board with; she's a peach. As far as I know, poor Wanda got her mind partially wiped and now she's a lot more chill about her dad (for better or for worse); we all try to stay in touch with her, but it's hard when you mostly end up fighting on opposing sides of an inter-mutantkind war. As for the golden couple, Scott and Jean, they keep getting back together and breaking up, always a magnet for problems. Not that Jean didn't have plenty of problems of the genetic kind...

I've had my fair share of ups and downs in the mutation arena, too. My touch is still hazardous to all but a handful of fellow freaks, and I still got tons of psyches swimming around in my own, but... let's just say I had a run-in with an extraterrestrial bimbo that went on for a while too long, and I ended up with a permanently souped-up arsenal. Of course, I also nearly went nuts when her personality thought it could make itself at home, but that's what the Prof and Jean are for, right?

After that, I knew  _intimately_ what it had meant for them to shoehorn Mystique from Risty's subconscious. And how much better she felt afterward.

As for Lazarus, she's fine. Scratch that - she's amazing. Well, she keeps dying, but she's already "dead" so it's almost an everyday thing for her. There was this once we had to contact a shaman, since she was... ah, screw it. Would take too long. Her powers ain't all that different from back then, except now she can maintain Zombie-Mode for days on end without breaking a sweat, and her empathic wave ("heebie-jeebies") takes about as much effort as sneezing, plus she can aim it better and send out multiple waves of different strengths. Her costume, on the other hand, is whole 'nother matter; gray tattered cape and chains (to play up the whole Death theme), and still rocking the purple flames. Then again, most of us have changed costumes so many times I forgot what some of 'em used to look like.

Because I'm sure you're absolutely  _dying_  to know... we did, at long last, have to tow Risty's dilapidated Escort to its final resting place in the Bayville Scrapyard. Yeah, it held out way longer than I expected. What a good little car. Now she's driving a much newer model: a 2001 Focus. Which, uh, isn't so new anymore I guess. It would be a prettier colour - if the passenger doors weren't a different colour than the rest of it. The more things change...

If you wanna know if we had the perfect romance that glided on rainbows for all eternity, I'm gonna have to let you down. We must've broke up a hundred times, almost as many as Jean and Scott. Every time I think about when I left her for that stupid gumbo-eating dipshit, I wonder who slipped psychoactive drugs into my cappuccino that week. Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk.

This last year was really rough on us, too; we actually took a break from each other, and Risty ran off to her homeland and joined Excalibur with Kurt and Kitty. I hear she did big things over there... not the least of which was bringing down Magneto when he was on one of his power trips. Guess we were right; she  _was_ the key.

But she missed home. Home missed her, too.

It's been since she came back about a month ago that I've felt compelled to get this whole story written down. As you probably could tell, I even put out the call to some of my friends – and less-than-friends who I could threaten – to provide sections I knew they'd remember more specifics about. I wanted it to be detailed and accurate, not leaving a single thing out by accident or on purpose (unless it was too personal to print, in which case you might be better off in the dark). Really, it's 'cause I wanted to  _do_ something. To commemorate the end of another dry spell – and boy, was it dry. Having my "crumpet strumpet" back in my arms again, holding her, sleeping next to her... all I can think about is those nights before we admitted our feelings, when we doubled-up in the bunk anyway because we were so drawn to each other that inhibitions weren't enough to stop us. It's like I was born to love her, and fighting it only makes the both of us miserable.

Inspires you to wanna toss your tacos, don't it?

I guess... I've got some advice, too. Man, I hate being preachy, I hate telling people how to live their lives. Most of the time, I'd rather not even try to run my own! But if there's one thing I've learned, being a mutant and being with Risty, it's this: don't hold back. Don't bottle it up, don't trip on the small stuff. Make friends, make mistakes, grab onto somebody so strong they try to beat you off, and then keep hanging on. If you think it's right, and you think you need it, you owe it to yourself to try at least once. If you fail – even if you fail really hard with bruises to show for it - but you think you got one more shot left in you, then  _take it._  Better than wishing you had.

Not buying it? Fine, but I got an undead life-mate who agrees with me.

Of course, shacking up's not always gonna be all hand-holding and wine by the fireplace. Sometimes it's arguments about movie choices, and sometimes it's getting caught cheating and apologizing 'til you're blue in the face as Mystique, and sometimes it's vacation plans that fall through and strand you at an airport in Honolulu during the rainiest week of the year. And... sometimes it's breaking up, and feeling hate for somebody you know you shouldn't.

But then there's the times it's about coming back together, and healing, and licking each other's wounds. Sometimes it's about licking other things (ha ha). Then, once in a great while, when you're lucky... it's looking up from a crossword puzzle with a smirk and telling the one you love that seventeen-down was "Buckingham", and having them laugh at you and call you "appallingly Western", and smiling at each other. On paper, maybe that doesn't sound so important, and it won't until you experience it yourself. Then you'll know.

"I hope  _you_  know I'm going to be proofreading this, luv."

"Huh?" I say to the violet-haired hussy behind me. God, I hate it when she does this.

"Do you recall a conversation we had - two days ago, at most - about you not letting slip to the world at large that you refer to me as 'Crumpet Strumpet'? There ought to be a law against such character assassination!"

"It's not anything like that, it's just a pet name! But I'll assassinate  _you_  if you don't stop interfering! This is my friggin' story, and I'll write it how I want."

"Not if you want my stamp of approval, you won't. Which is a lot more important than your freedom of expression, if you catch my drift."

Oh, the burden of the artistically-stifled writer. "So, what, you'll hold out on me in the boudoir until I make your stupid revisions? As if! I'll have you whimpering at my feet to go Rogue inside of a week."

"And I detest that one, as well; 'going Rogue'. If I were a man, you'd be saying things like, 'Tonight, let's see if we can get Lazarus to rise!' Galling."

"You bet I would. I might do it anyway, Mister Risty."

"Yes, yes, how very hilarious because I said I was a man.  _One time._   _AGES AGO."_

Take note, folks: this is what you're walking into when you date a Redcoat.

"It has nothing to do with me being a Redcoat and everything to do with you being a prat!"

"Then stop saying 'prat'; over here we spell it with a 'b' in front! And if you keep reading over my shoulder, then so help me-"

"Wait, wait, stop." She laughs at me. She laughs! The audacity! "Okay, I didn't come up here to bugger you about- will you stop writing this down, already? Give it a rest!"

"No can do."

"Listen, you stubborn mule, Xavier needs us in the War Room post haste! Didn't Phoenix alert you brain-to-brain?"

It's not a quiet life, being a superhero. It's not even a hectic life; hectic would be a nice, steady pace next to what we put up with. "Crap. What is it this time? Omega Red and Lady Deathstrike are piloting Sentinels and trying to give atomic wedgies to Spider-man and the Seven Dwarves?"

"Nothing so plebeian, I'm sorry to say. Haven't got any details yet, but when I heard the Shi'ar mentioned I figured I'd savor the bliss of ignorance a while longer."

"Oh, freaking  _great._  Those feather-brained idjits can't ever seem to save their own hides without backup, can they?"

"I don't make the news, I just report it. By the way, I also wanted to grab my kusarigama... have you seen it? If this is going to be the start of an intergalactic war, I'd rather be as well-equipped as possible."

Right, this doohickey. Logan's idea, actually; it's a Japanese weapon consisting of a small sickle attached to a chain. It didn't even take Risty that long to master it, since (thanks to Mystique) she was already familiar with all that other ninja gear. Gotta admit, it suits our wannabe Reaper. "On the nightstand."

"Where? Are you sure?"

"Under the Cosmo and all those empty Aero wrappers, you slob. Can't you pick up after yourself once in a while?"

"Nope. Oh! Yes, here it– oh, dash it all, the blade's all dinged and rusty. Peacetime takes a toll on your instruments of death. My whetstone should still be in this drawer... wait! No, that's a Placebo album..."

Sorry, y'all, looks like this is where our tale of daring do and dating disasters ends. When I get back to our solar system –  _if_  I get back, and bodily whole – maybe I'll tell you how it turned out, but I figure I covered most of the important parts. So I'm gonna grab my leather jacket and am-scray. An X-Man's job is never done.

"Oi, if you fly us down the hallway we'll make better time, Skunky."

No matter how many times she uses it, I maintain that one's a low blow, since I have no control over how my hair grows in. "Hey, if you can call me Skunky, I can call you Crumpet Strumpet!"

"Fine, point to you. Is that what you needed to finish your bloody memoirs? If you don't shake a leg, we'll never reach the Blackbird!"

"Hush up, I'm almost done."

"Oh, and Rogue?"

"What, Risty? What the hell is it  _now?"_

"Love you."

What an annoying little snot she can be. I turn around to let her have a piece of my mind, but when I see those dazzling hazel eyes crinkling at the corners from the sheer magnitude of her impish grin, all my anger flies out the window. "Love you, too, darlin'. Now get off my back! I'll catch up in a minute!"

"Have it your way, princess. But don't blame me when the Chief gives you a tongue-lashing – and I don't mean the naughty kind!"

So vulgar. So obnoxious, so scatterbrained, and so English. And guess what? I wouldn't take her any other way.

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